


A Peaceful Village

by Higuchimon, SilvorMoon



Series: Order of the Outcasts [5]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 22:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15447576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higuchimon/pseuds/Higuchimon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilvorMoon/pseuds/SilvorMoon
Summary: Prince Kaito has come to this tiny village in hopes that getting away from the smoke and bustle of the city will benefit his sickly younger brother. He expected his stay there to be quiet to the point of boredom. He wasn't reckoning on meeting a boy named Tsukumo Yuma. He definitely wasn't counting on Yuma accidentally triggering a fairy curse.





	1. The Newcomers

Kaito wished that the road wasn’t so absurdly dusty. His wagon trundled slowly along, throwing up lazily drifting clouds of fine yellow dust that settled on everything - his clothes, his skin, his hair, his luggage, the wagon and the horses. He could taste it on his tongue and feel it gritting in his teeth, and no amount of spitting seemed to rid him of it. He wished a little that he was riding a horse, rather than sitting in the back of a bumpy wagon. Droite rode a little ahead of him on her dapple-gray mare, looking cool and comfortable and not at all bothered by the dry dusty road. Gauche, who was sitting at the front of the wagon and holding the reins, didn’t look bothered, but he wasn’t the sort to let himself get hung up on minor details, and Kaito suspected that “getting dirty” was something he’d consider too minor to worry about. 

To tell the truth, Kaito himself wouldn’t have minded as much if it hadn’t been for the cargo this particular wagon was carrying. Dozing on the bed of the wagon, nestled among a heap of pillows, was his little brother Haruto. He’d slept through most of the journey, and yet it was obviously still wearing on him. Kaito had done the best he could to make sure that Haruto would be comfortable. He and his father had agreed that their mode of conveyance should be as unprepossessing as possible, but they had also made certain that the wagon’s decrepit appearance was a mere illusion. It was actually quite sturdy and well-sprung, and the interior was as plushly upholstered as human ingenuity could make it. Still, Kaito worried about the effect the journey was having on Haruto - the sun, the dust, the constant jouncing of the wagon on the rutted road. They had left the city and its smoothly paved streets far behind them, and the road they were following now was little more than a track. 

“You riding okay back there?” called Gauche from the front of the wagon. 

“As well as we can be,” said Kaito. 

“Well, you might want to start thinking about waking up the kid and getting your stuff together,” said Gauche. “We’re almost there.” 

“We are?” asked Kaito, feeling foolish for even saying it. If Gauche said they were getting close, they were getting close. All the same, when he looked around, he saw no sign of civilization, only trees and more trees, and the dusty road winding through them. 

Droite gave a brisk nod. “If our map is correct, we should be there within the hour.” 

“Good,” said Kaito. “I’m ready to get out of this wagon.” 

“You ain’t the only one,” Gauche said. “After this ride, I’m going to spend the next week picking splinters out of my...” 

“Gauche,” said Droite warningly. “There are children present.” 

“Aw, the kid’s asleep,” said Gauche. “Anyway, I wasn’t gonna say anything he hadn’t heard before.” 

Kaito rolled his eyes. Gauche was an excellent bodyguard, assuming that was what you needed, but class and subtlety were not his long suits. He had originated from a barbarian tribe who had taught him that the solution to most problems could be found by hitting them until they stopped moving. He was, in short, the perfect foil for his partner Droite, who looked relatively harmless right up until the point when she decided she was ready to hurt you, at which point you would probably never realize what had hit you. She was a trained assassin who could have a knife between your ribs and be back on the other side of the room before your body had a chance to hit the floor. Inevitably, when it came to a fight, people tended to focus on Gauche, who was the obvious threat, and completely overlook the equally dangerous Droite until it was much too late. Gauche, for his part, seemed to enjoy the deception, and would happily make a target of himself just to draw out enemies. It was fun to watch them work, even though truthfully Kaito didn’t feel he needed either of them to babysit him. 

Still, he had other things on his mind right now, so perhaps having them along wouldn’t be so bad. 

Gently, he nudged the shoulder of the boy sleeping next to him in the wagon. 

“Haruto,” he called, using the gentle tones that only his little brother could elicit from him. “Can you wake up now? Droite says we’re almost there. Don’t you want to see your new home?” 

Haruto made a small sleepy sound and slowly blinked his eyes open. Kaito helped him sit up straight so he could see over the tall sides of the wagon. They had been made so that it would be difficult for anyone to look in and gawk at the fragile boy it carried, but those same tall sides made it hard for Haruto to see out without help. It was worth the effort, though. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the green scenery of the forest. 

“Are we going to live here?” he asked, awestruck. 

Kaito smiled. The two of them had always lived in the heart of a city, and while Kaito sometimes traveled, Haruto’s illness had always made it impossible to stray very far from his rooms. This was the first time in his life he’d been surrounded by trees. 

“We are,” said Kaito. “It will be a lot different from home, won’t it?” 

“It’s really beautiful,” said Haruto softly. 

Kaito smiled. Maybe coming all this way had been worth it after all. 

Droite was seldom wrong. It wasn’t long at all before they began seeing the first signs of farmland, and shortly after that, they passed a fork in the road where a signpost pointed them to their destination. Kaito began to take an interest. If this town was going to be his home for the next few months, maybe even years, he wanted to get to know it as soon as possible. It was larger than he’d expected, he soon realized. He’d been afraid he was going to find himself stranded in the wilderness with only a couple of shacks and a few farm animals for company. This town had several sturdy-looking houses around its perimeter, and a few small but prosperous-looking shops at its heart. Kaito’s sharp eye picked out a carpenter’s, a tailor’s, a greengrocer’s, a blacksmith’s, a glassblower’s, even a tiny shop that sold books. That was a relief. He’d been expecting a cultural wasteland, but if the town could support a bookseller than perhaps the people here wouldn’t be completely torturous to talk to. There was a tavern that seemed to be doing a brisk business, so he’d have a source of food when he got tired of eating at home. He was also a bit surprised to see a large and well-maintained temple at the edge of town. That was interesting. Was this some sort of holy site, or was there some other reason why such a small town boasted such a prominent temple? Either way, it might be a source of entertainment. Temples often had libraries, and perhaps it would attract pilgrims who might at least bring news of the rest of the kingdom. On the whole, Kaito began to think that it wouldn’t be such a punishment to live here. 

“Let’s stop here for a while,” said Droite, reining in her horse outside the temple. “My map isn’t very clear, so I want to ride ahead and make sure of our direction before we go any further.” 

Kaito nodded. He didn’t care for the idea of riding around in this wagon for any longer than he had to, and jouncing around on a lot of backwoods trails would probably do Haruto even less good. 

“We’ll stop here and stretch our legs, then,” he said. “Maybe get something to eat.” They had travel rations, of course, but a hot meal at the inn would probably be more satisfying if the food was anything like reasonably edible. 

Droite nodded. If she felt any annoyance or jealousy over the idea that the others would be relaxing and eating and she wouldn’t be, she didn’t let it show on her face. She simply wheeled her mount around and went trotting out of town towards the forest. Kaito watched her go for a moment before turning to size up his situation. They had left the tavern a good way behind them, and while this was a reasonable place to stop, being cool and shady and generally out of the way, walking all the way back would probably be a strain on poor Haruto. 

“Gauche,” he said, “stay here and keep an eye on Haruto for me. I’m going to go into town to get us something to eat while we wait.” 

“I’m all for that,” said Gauche. “Sure you don’t want me to go instead?” 

Kaito was tempted. On the whole, he would have preferred staying with his brother as much as possible. On the other hand, nothing was likely to bother Haruto while Gauche was standing guard, whereas sending Gauche into a village unaccompanied was likely to raise a certain amount of commotion, particularly if it meant sending him into a bar. He wasn’t likely to get into any _real_ trouble, but that wasn’t the first impression Kaito wanted his people to make on this town. 

“I’ll be fine,” said Kaito. “Activate one of the automatons if you need anything.” Turning his attention to Haruto, he said, “Be good and wait for me until I get back, okay? I’ll see if I can bring you a cake or something.” 

“All right,” said Haruto. He looked a little dubious about the idea of being left behind by his brother, but Kaito consoled himself that he wouldn’t be gone for very long. 

The town seemed even more lively when viewed on foot than it had from the wagon. Not that it was anything like, say, the marketplace in the capital city, but there were plenty of people bustling about, doing their shopping and socializing. All of them seemed to be staring at him, recognizing him as a stranger. He did his best to keep his expression, if not pleasant, then at least not unfriendly. Along the way, he paused to peer in the windows of various shops, trying to get a better idea of what was available. He was in the middle of contemplating a bakery and making a mental note to go in and get a few of the pastries on display when he made his trip back, when suddenly something slammed into him and nearly bowled him over. 

“Hey, watch it!” he shouted. 

“Sorry, sorry!” 

The voice, Kaito thought, did not sound particularly sorry - more bemused, as if whoever had crashed into him couldn’t imagine why someone would have been standing there in the street like that. Kaito collected himself and looked up to see exactly whose fault this situation was. 

Standing in front of him was a boy, maybe five years younger than himself, with dark hair streaked with red and the tanned skin of someone who spent a good deal of time outdoors. His most striking feature, though, were his eyes. They were red, which should have been alarming. Kaito had heard all sorts of stories about monsters and demons with glowing red eyes. There was nothing at all threatening about this boy, though. Those eyes held all the welcoming warmth of a hearth fire in the depths of winter, or a sunrise after a long dreary night. Kaito stared at him. 

“Where are you going in such a hurry that you can’t afford to slow down and see who’s in front of you?” he asked. 

“Going to see Master Rokujuro,” said the boy, clearly taking Kaito at face value. “He gets pretty cranky when I’m late. Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere,” said Kaito. Now he was sorry that he’d started this conversation. He should have just walked off while the kid was still collecting himself. 

“I haven’t seen you around before,” the boy continued, “and I thought I knew everybody in town. Are you new here? What’s your name?” 

Kaito hesitated. He was supposed to be keeping a low profile, but surely there was more than one person named Kaito in the world. In a village this remote, they might not even know their crown prince’s name at all. 

“Kaito,” he said at last. “I just moved here with my brother.” 

The boy’s eyes lit up. “You’re going to live here? That’s great! We could use more new people around here. Anyway, I gotta go, before Master Rokujuro gets mad at me!” 

He turned and raced off. He didn’t get very far, though, before he skidded to a stop, turned around, and called back, “Oh, almost forgot! I’m Yuma! See you around!” 

Then he went tearing off again, kicking up dust as he went. Kaito observed him a moment before shaking his head and continuing on his way. 

_People around here are weird,_ he decided. As he continued his explorations, he made a mental note: even when Haruto was well enough to get out a bit, Kaito wasn’t going to let him talk to people like that. 

* * *

As it turned out, even running at top speed to the temple was not enough to keep Master Rokujuro from being annoyed. 

“It’s not like I’ve never been late before,” Yuma muttered, as he tramped down the street in much lower spirits than he’d been when he’d run up it. “You’d think he’d be used to it by now.” 

He ambled along, not paying much attention to where he was going, giving his full attention to musing on the unfairness of life, and particularly the unfairness of his teacher. Sometimes he wondered why his family had insisted that he become Master Rokujuro’s apprentice in the first place. All right, he had certain skills, but surely they could be put to use somewhere interesting. Given his choice, he would have preferred to be wandering the world like his illustrious parents, who were renowned in several kingdoms as great explorers and treasure hunters. That was the life for him - seeing the world, having adventures... 

Automatically, Yuma’s hand went to the pendant that hung around his neck. His father had found it a long time ago, when Yuma had been just a child. Yuma couldn’t remember the circumstances too clearly, only that his father had been making what was supposed to be a fairly routine journey to a nearby city. He’d left the path to take a shortcut through the woods, something he’d done safely many times before, only that time, he’d simply vanished. For days, Yuma and his family had waited for signs of his father. Yuma’s mother had gone searching for him, as had the village tracker and several other volunteers, but they hadn’t been able to pick up his trail. Everyone had just about given up hope by the time Yuma’s father had finally reappeared, looking tattered and a bit pale but otherwise in good health. He’d said little about where he’d been or what had happened to him, despite Yuma’s many questions on the subject. 

“You’ll understand someday,” was all he’d said. 

Then he’d given Yuma this pendant. He’d managed to lose his pack and walking stick somewhere along the way, but he’d brought back the pendant, the thing he called the King’s Key, and he seemed to think there was something very special about it. That was enough to make Yuma treasure it, despite the fact that it had never done anything interesting for the whole time he’d worn it. 

_I wonder which king it’s supposed to be a key for?_ Yuma mused, as the walk began to relax him a bit. _It can’t belong to our king - even my dad couldn’t walk all the way to the capital city and back that fast, and he definitely couldn’t get to any other kingdoms even if he rode a horse or something. Did somebody steal it? Or did someone use some kind of magic to take him away? And why won’t he talk about it?_

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that it took him a moment to realize someone was calling his name. 

“Hey, Yuma, over here!” 

Yuma looked up. His friend Tetsuo was standing outside the door to the inn, beckoning for him to come over. A few of their other friends were gathered around one of the tables out front, sipping drinks and sharing a plate of herb bread. 

“What’s up, guys?” Yuma asked. He dropped into a seat between Kotori, his longtime friend, and Mayor Todoroki’s son Takashi. On the other side of the table sat another boy called Tokunosuke and a tracker named Cathy. Yuma exchanged greetings with them all as he reached to grab a slice of bread. 

“What are you doing here today?” Kotori asked him. “I thought you were training with Master Rokujuro today.” 

Yuma sighed. “I am, kinda.” 

“How can you kind of be training?” asked Takashi, with his usual insistence on precision. “Are you or aren’t you?” 

“Well, I’m supposed to be,” said Yuma, “but I was late again, and he got annoyed and told me I have to go into the forest and get some herbs for him as punishment.” 

“So why aren’t you in the forest?” Kotori asked reasonably. 

“I dunno,” said Yuma, slumping dejectedly onto the table. “Why do I have to go pick plants for him anyway? I wasn’t that late, and besides, I had a good reason!” 

“What was your reason?” Tetsuo asked. 

“I stopped to talk to a guy,” Yuma replied. 

“How is that a good reason?” Kotori asked. “You can talk to people anytime.” 

“Yeah, but this was a different guy!” Yuma insisted. “I mean, he’s new here. He said so. He said his name was Kaito and he just moved here with his brother. You can’t blame me for wanting to stop and talk to the new guy.” 

“That must be the guy my dad was talking about,” said Tetsuo. “He said there was a stranger who came in a little while ago and picked up some food. I figured it was just somebody coming to visit the temple, but... you say he’s moving to town? It’s been a long time since we’ve had anybody new around here.” 

Takashi frowned. “Kaito... I know I’ve heard that name somewhere before. Maybe in a book somewhere?” 

Tokunosuke perked up. “Do you think he’s someone famous?” 

“Don’t be silly,” said Kotori. “Why would someone famous come here? It isn’t like we’re a very big or important town. I mean, we have a temple, and that’s pretty much it.” 

Tetsuo nodded. “Yeah. He’s probably just _named_ after someone famous.” 

“That’s probably it,” Yuma agreed. “Anyway, if he’s going to be around for a while, we’ll probably find out. Wonder where he’s going to live? I don’t remember hearing about any vacant houses around here.” 

“Maybe he’s going to build a house?” said Cathy dubiously. 

“I heard someone bought that old place at the edge of town,” said Takashi. “The one out in the woods, where the woodcutter’s mother used to live.” 

“That old place?” asked Yuma. “Who’d want to live there? It’s way out on the edges of everything. You have to walk a mile just to get into town.” 

“Maybe,” said Tokunosuke thoughtfully, “someone would want a house like that if they were up to no good and didn’t want anyone to know about it.” 

Tetsuo frowned. “I dunno. The way my dad told it, it sounds like he’s got a sick kid brother with him, and they brought him here to get better.” 

“Yeah, but that could just be a cover story,” Tokunosuke insisted. 

Yuma bounced to his feet. “I’ll find out!” 

“Yuma...” said Kotori, sounding exasperated. “You can’t just go sneaking around people’s houses!” 

“I’m not going to be sneaking around,” Yuma insisted. “But I have to go into the woods and look for those herbs Master Rokujuro wanted anyway, so I might as well look for them there as anywhere. And if I happen to see something...” 

“I could come too, if you want,” Cathy offered. 

Yuma shook his head. “I’ll be fine! I know my way around the forest. Anyway, if Master Rokujuro thinks I got someone to help me, he’ll just make me do it all over again.” 

Before his friends could muster any further arguments, he bounced to his feet and went hurrying off to the edge of town. 

He made his way down the main street for a while, then ducked down a side street, emerging eventually at the side gate to someone’s vegetable garden. Beyond that point, there was a thin border of grass and scrub, a few scraggly saplings, and then the forest. Yuma plunged into the cool green shadows with a sense of relief. He liked being in town, of course - his friends were there most of the time, and there was always plenty to do there - but he was happiest when he was out in the world. It made him feel like he was following in his father’s footsteps. Indeed, he’s already explored much of the forest for miles around his town, and his mental map of it was as accurate as anything committed to paper. Now he ambled along seldom-used game trails, listening to the birds chatter overhead and watching the occasional squirrel or rabbit scamper out of his way. He wasn’t taking a direct route to the old cottage. Rather, he let himself ramble wherever something caught his attention, veering off the path now and again just for the fun of scampering over the trunk of a fallen tree or splashing through a tiny stream, pausing to pick up an interesting pebble or colorful feather. He’d never been the sort to go at anything in a neat and orderly fashion. After all, he was an explorer - well, the son of explorers, anyway - and how could he be expected to explore anything if he always stuck to the most well-known paths? 

Even moving at that erratic pace, he found his way to the edge of the property that had once belonged to the woodcutter’s mother. It had, in fact, belonged to several generations of woodcutters, but the last one to live there had been killed when a branch had broken off of a tree he’d just felled and had struck him over the head. Once the last of the old woodcutter’s family had either died or moved into larger, more comfortable lodgings, the place had been allowed to fall apart. 

Only now it seemed it wasn’t falling apart at all. It looked as though someone had been through recently and patched it all up. The roof had been re-shingled, the walls showed signs of fresh paint, and the boarded-up windows had been uncovered and filled in with real glass. Yuma, from his vantage point in back of the house, could see that even the old garden in back was freshly turned and weeded. Intrigued, Yuma crept a little closer, slinking through the bushes and keeping out of sight as he made his way to the front of the house. 

There certainly seemed to be a fair amount of commotion going on. The young man, Kaito, that Yuma had run into in the street appeared to be overseeing the unloading of a wagon. The bulk of the work was being done be a brawny red-haired man and a less imposing but still highly competent-looking young woman. Instead of helping, Kaito seemed to be preoccupied with attending to a little boy. 

_So there is a sick brother!_ Yuma thought, feeling rather vindicated. He’d taken an early liking to the stranger he’d crashed into, and it was nice to know there was nothing to Tokunosuke’s wild conjectures. Yuma had spent enough time around Master Rokujuro’s temple to have learned a thing or two about sick children, and to his practiced eye, this child looked like someone who had been sick for quite some time and wasn’t going to get better any time soon. He frowned a little. _I’ll have to remember to tell them to come to the temple, if they don’t know about it already._

He would have liked to snoop around some more, but with all the activity going on, he was sure it would only be a matter of time before someone realized he was there and came demanding that he explain himself, and getting yelled at by Master Rokujuro was about all the trouble he wanted to get into for the moment. He promised himself he’d come back later, possibly with a housewarming gift, once he’d taken care of his errand for Master Rokujuro. At least now he had information his friends didn’t have, so he could have the fun of telling them all what he had seen. Feeling more cheerful now, he set off into the forest to complete his secondary but far more pressing task. 

He started to move back towards the village, then paused. He hadn’t come this way very often - other than the old house, there hadn’t been much to see here but trees, trees, and more trees. The nearest village in this direction was a small town so far away that few people ever bothered to make the journey when there were so many better choices closer at hand in the other direction. Yuma’s previous brief explorations had uncovered nothing of any real interest, and after a while, he’d stopped coming. Now, though, it occurred to him that he did remember seeing quite a lot of herbs the last time he’d come though. Perhaps it would be fun to explore a little in a part of the forest he didn’t see every day. Even if he didn’t know the precise lay of the land, he knew approximately which direction the village would be, and finding his way home was as easy as scaling a tall tree and looking to see which direction the smoke from the village chimneys was coming from. Mind made up, he left the house behind and plunged into the forest. 

At first, it was all disappointingly ordinary. Yuma ambled along the remains of a trail, probably the very same one the woodcutter himself had used years ago, now so overgrown that it was almost invisible. Eventually that petered out, and Yuma had to content himself with picking his way over the roots of ancient trees and kicking through heaps of dead leaves. He did eventually spot a few small patches of the plant he’d been sent to find, neither of them large enough to serve his purpose - the two of them together barely filled his pouch a quarter full. Nevertheless, he picked what little there was and continued moving deeper into the forest, pausing along the way to snatch up a few more herbs as he stumbled across them. Not all of them were the things he’d been sent for, but he knew by now that there was always a use for healing herbs. 

After a while, he began finding breaks in the trees, corresponding to places where clusters of large rocks thrust out of the earth. Most of those were covered in soft emerald green moss, so vibrant and lush that Yuma couldn’t resist pausing to sink his hands into it. It was delightfully cool, and he toyed with the idea of kicking his shoes off to walk barefoot through it. There was certainly enough of it around, he saw, to make a pretty fair cushion. Instead, he gave the moss a final pat and prepared to move on. 

He was dismayed when his hand knocked a chunk of the moss loose. Beneath it, he could see a patch of pale stone. There was writing carved into it. Yuma leaned in closer for a better look, but the elegantly curved letters - if they even were letters - were like nothing he’d ever seen before, and their meaning eluded him. 

Curious now, Yuma stood back to take a better look. What he’d initially taken for random outcroppings of rock, he realized, were actually placed at regular intervals. They had definitely been put there by someone. And when had he ever seen rocks like this, anyway? The stone you got around here was generally white or gray granite. He had no idea what this stuff was, but it had an almost bluish cast to it and a weirdly smooth, glassy texture. He’d never seen anything like it before. So what was it, and why had someone left it here? 

Curious now, he began working his way along the rows of stone, mentally mapping out the way it was all arranged. It wasn’t long before he’d formed some definite ideas. The stones had once been part of a building, something with a series of walls. Some further digging among the larger heaps of rubble turned up more bits of writing. The rest of the structure might be collapsing, but the squiggles were still surprisingly distinct, if unreadable. Yuma got the impression that whatever they meant, whoever had written them had wanted very much to get their point across. 

_Too bad they didn’t bother to write it in words a person can read,_ Yuma thought, feeling mildly disgruntled. His elation at having discovered something worth finding was tempered by the fact that he couldn’t even begin to guess what it was. Nevertheless, he slogged along, moving from one clump of stone to another. 

At the heart of the ruins, half buried amid a tangle of climbing vines, Yuma hit pay dirt. He’d been nosing around for at least a half an hour when it dawned on him that the ruins he’d been exploring seemed to be forming concentric circles, and if they were, it meant that the important part of the structure would probably be at the center. He thrashed his way through the underbrush, which was thicker here where the stones had held off the trees and allowed more light to seep through, until he reached what he guessed was the heart of the structure. There, he found a dome of vines and fallen leaves about the height of a tall man. Something sparkled at the center. 

Yuma’s first thought was, _Treasure!_ Even the small glints he could see suggested something that glittered like a diamond. He began hastily yanking vines and brushing away leaves. Soon he could see that his first impression wasn’t far off the mark. Whatever he’d found, it seemed to be made of crystal, and it sparkled in every color of the rainbow. The more debris Yuma cleared away, the more impressed he became. How could there be a diamond as big as a shed lying out here undiscovered in the middle of the forest? 

But the real shock came when he finally pulled away a fallen branch, much tangled with smaller bits of plant life, and got his first good look at the thing he’d uncovered. It was a crystal, all right, and it was wound around with golden chains linked to a heavy golden padlock. 

And at the center of the crystal, there was a humanlike figure. 

“What the hell?” Yuma exclaimed. 

The figure in the crystal didn’t stir. Yuma stared at it. He had heard of insects being trapped in amber. Such things were rare and highly prized by collectors. His father had told him that such things occurred when an insect got caught in a sticky glob of pine resin and was encased inside it as it dried and hardened into something like stone. But how could a person get caught in a stone like this? Surely not by accident, not with those chains and that massive lock. And now that Yuma was looking closely, he could see that the person inside was revolving in place very, very slowly. Even as he watched, he saw the being’s eyes flutter slightly. Whatever it was, it was asleep, and apparently dreaming. 

“Hey,” Yuma called. “Hey, buddy, can you hear me?” 

The whatever-it-was twitched slightly and went back to dozing. Yuma stared, feeling thoroughly perplexed. He tried rapping on the crystal with his knuckles. It didn’t even make a sound, though it did bruise his knuckles. He tried again with a large stick, and it shattered into splinters at the third blow without making more than a dull thud. He tried beating it with stones, first with a normal one and then with a chunk of the bluish stuff. Both times, the stone struck sparks and skidded out of his grip. Similar experiments on the gold chain and the padlock produced the same results. Yuma scowled. Whatever this stuff was, it wasn’t going to break. Feeling winded, he sat down on a rock to consider his options. 

The sensible thing to do would be to leave it all alone, cover it up again and go home. Whatever was inside that gem, someone had clearly meant for it to stay in there. The multiple layers of walls, the lock and chain, the impenetrable crystal itself, all suggested that this was meant to be a prison from which there was no escaping. And yet, Yuma couldn’t leave it alone. For one thing, it was a challenge, and Yuma was not one to back down from a challenge. For another, he couldn’t feel threatened by the creature sealed inside. It was actually sort of pretty, drifting there. It was hard to see through the glittering surface of the gemstone prison, but it seemed to be generally human shaped, with pale blue skin and a graceful build, slim and delicate. It surely didn’t look so dangerous that it warranted all this protection. 

The rock he sat on was cold and uncomfortable, and he shifted a little to ease his sore rump. As he did so, something sparkled. He glanced down to see the pendant his father had given him glinting and flashing as if someone had filled it with tiny agitated fireflies. 

“Huh,” he said. “I wonder...” 

Carefully, he palmed the pendant, and was only mildly surprised to realize that it was warm to the touch, as if he’d left it sitting in the sun instead of in a shady forest. He walked closer to the dome, and as he did so, he became aware of a faint chiming sound. His grandmother had a mobile hanging in her back yard, made from twigs and string and bits of glass that the glassblower had tossed out. This sounded a lot like that - not entirely unpleasant, but random and persistent enough to get on his nerves if he were forced to listen to it for too long. The closer he got to the dome, the louder and faster it became, until it sounded like a whole forest of wind chimes was being whipped up by a storm. The pendant in his hand was almost too hot to touch. Yuma gritted his teeth and forced himself to ignore both the pain and the noise. He slammed the key into the lock and gave it a sharp twist. 

There was a _clunk_ , a noise far louder than the size of the lock should have indicated. The chains fell away with a deafening clatter, and Yuma stepped away in spite of himself, forced backwards by the sudden wave of light that the gem emitted. The moment the lock had come undone, the crystal had started glowing as if it intended to become a second sun. There was a shattering noise, as if all of the invisible wind chimes had been dropped at the same time, and Yuma flung up his arms to shield his face. He felt rather than saw that something whizzed past him, many somethings, bits of something brittle and sharp-edged that stung his skin as they flew past. 

Then silence descended, sudden and dizzying as a blow to the head. Yuma slowly unfolded himself, checking the damage. He felt as though he and his clothing should have been shredded to tatters by the force of whatever had gone blasting past him, but though his skin still stung faintly, he didn’t seem to be damaged at all. 

But something had happened. The chains that had sealed the strange dome had fallen to the ground, and they appeared to have rusted and half-disintegrated all in an instant. Of the dome itself, there was no trace, only a bare spot in the ground where there were no leaves or moss. One thing hadn’t changed, though: the strange figure still hovered at its center. 

Yuma took a slow step forward. He could see details now that the dome had obscured before. The figure was unclothed but showed no outward signs of its sex. He had thought at first that perhaps the blue-white tone of its skin had been due to the effects of the gemstone that surrounded it, but now he could see that blue was in fact its natural color. There were traces of darker blue-green at various points on its body as well, though whether they were natural or some sort of tattoos, Yuma couldn’t begin to work out. What he could see was that the being’s ears were elongated and pointed at the end, and he’d only ever heard of one thing that looked like a human but had pointed ears. 

_One of the Fae Folk... I thought they were just stories..._

“Hey,” he said, breaking the silence. “Are you awake? You’d better be awake.” He’d heard a lot of stories about people being cast into magical sleep by magicians or one of the Fae, and the usually ended with someone kissing the sleeper to wake them up. It always sounded perfectly reasonable in the tales, but he was realizing now that it was a much more awkward proposition in real life. This creature might have a certain ethereal beauty, but that wouldn’t make kissing it any less weird. 

Much to Yuma’s relief, the creature opened its eyes. One was yellow, like a cat’s eye, and the other was a sort of luminous white, as if reflecting a brilliant light source that Yuma couldn’t see. They blinked open and shut a few times. The creature cocked its head to one side. Yuma got the feeling it was busy taking in every last detail of its surroundings and tallying up all the information according to some highly precise system. The intensity of it was enough to make Yuma squirm when those two mismatched eyes fell squarely on him. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment. 

“Was it you who undid the seal of my prison?” the creature asked. The voice, anyway, was clearly male. 

“Yeah, that was me,” said Yuma. He scowled a little, thinking that whoever this guy was, he didn’t sound particularly grateful for having been released. 

The creature frowned. “You do not appear to be one of the Fae. Why were you chosen to release me?” 

“Um,” said Yuma. “I wasn’t exactly chosen...” 

“Not chosen?” the creature repeated. It sounded affronted. “Then what business did you have opening the lock?” 

“I don’t know!” Yuma protested. “I just saw it was locked and I had a key so I tried it to see what would happen, and...” 

“Well, that was highly irresponsible of you,” the creature scolded. 

Yuma glared. “You know, you could show me a little gratitude for letting you out! What, was it fun being sealed up inside that thing?” 

“No,” said the creature, “but that is beside the point. I was _supposed_ to be trapped within that seal, and if you have released me before my time without the proper safeguards, there will undoubtably be consequences.” 

“I don’t get it at all,” Yuma complained. “What do you mean, consequences? And why were you supposed to be sealed up? Who are you, anyway?” 

“My name is Astral,” the creature replied. “I was created by those entities which your people call the Fae or Fair Folk. I was sent to the human realms to do battle with a great evil, but I was... not altogether successful. As punishment for my failure, I was to remain sealed within this prison until such time as the flaws in my design were understood and rectified, or until the need became so great that even flawed help would be preferable to no help at all.” 

“But why would they lock you up?” Yuma asked. “I mean, it sounds like you did the best you could. They shouldn’t just throw you away forever just because you didn’t do as good a job as they hoped. I mean, I mess up all the time and Master Rokujuro doesn’t kick me out of the temple. He just makes me run errands for him until he gets over being mad at me.” 

“Your situation is different. You are human,” said Astral. “You have the ability to choose your path in life. I am a created creature - my only purpose in existing was to defeat this evil of which I spoke. If I am unable to fulfill my purpose, I have no right to continue existing.” 

“That’s crap!” Yuma exclaimed. “That is totally not fair! Even automatons have feelings, and they’re not even as alive as you are. You should have the right to live however you want, no matter what your creators think! Do you really want to spend forever cooped up inside a rock?” 

“Not... really,” said Astral, as if the honest words were being hauled out of him. “Though at the moment, I don’t see that I have any more choice in the matter. You’ve destroyed the prison. I am now in your custody, whether either of us like it or not.” 

Yuma gawped. “What do you mean, custody?” 

“I mean precisely what I say,” said Astral. “No one was supposed to be able to use that key but my jailers. The fact that you possess the key means that you are now my keeper, and I must remain with you until I have fulfilled the original terms of my binding - which is to say, until my people decide I am needed again - or until you put me back into my prison.” 

“But I can’t put you back into the prison!” Yuma objected. “I mean, it broke. It’s gone.” 

Astral looked around, as if checking for signs of his erstwhile prison. 

“Yes, that would seem to be a problem,” he said. “I am assuming that you neglected to utilize the proper safeguards?” 

“Safeguards?” Yuma repeated. 

“They should have been written on the walls outside my prison,” said Astral. 

“Yeah, sure,” said Yuma. “Only you might not have noticed, but there aren’t any walls. They look like they fell down years ago. Even if they hadn’t, I have no idea what language that stuff was written in, much less what it said.” 

Astral frowned slightly. “Yes, I see your point. It appears that I have been out of commission far longer than I realized.” 

“So what am I supposed to do?” asked Yuma. “I can’t have a... a... a whatever you are following me around wherever I go! How do I get you back to fairyland or wherever it is you belong?” 

“You don’t,” said Astral. He seemed to shudder slightly and closed his eyes. “Not now.” 

“Why not?” Yuma asked. “I mean, I get you don’t want to go back to your jail, but maybe if I explain to them what happened...” 

Astral shook his head. “That is not what I mean. What I mean is, you just broke the seal to my prison without first taking the proper precautions. You don’t want to talk to the Fae just now. Those safeguards weren’t meant to keep me in. They were meant to keep your people from letting me out. The fact that you are carrying the King’s Key granted you some protection, but as for any other people who may have been nearby...” 

He trailed off. Yuma looked at him expectantly. 

“What?” he said at last. “What’s going to happen?” 

“I don’t know,” said Astral slowly, “but whatever it may be, I think we need to find out as soon as possible... because it may already be too late.”


	2. Disturbing the Peace

Kaito had never actually cleaned a house before. Oh, he was expected to keep his rooms more or less tidy, but he had servants to take care of the grungier details like sweeping under the bed and washing the windows. All he ever really had to do was to make sure he put his things back into the drawers and closets they’d come from, and there was always someone else who’d do that for him if he was in a genuine hurry. Cleaning an entire house like this, one that had been abandoned to the elements for years, was a task that would have normally been far beyond anything he was used to. 

Fortunately, he didn’t need to bother. 

As soon as he’d arrived at the house, he’d reached into a pouch at his waist and taken out a carefully preserved puff of wool. He unwrapped it gently and withdrew a charm made of dry, brittle herbs, all tied together with thin bits of vine around a delicate twig. The whole thing looked like a little broom no longer than Kaito’s smallest finger. He cradled it in the palm of his hand and whispered to it. 

“To thy form let thou be true. Clean this place - make all things new!” 

He felt a tingle in his palm as the spell caught hold. Satisfied, he clenched his fist and crushed the charm to powder. Then he flung open the door of the house and cast the dust inside in a lavish sweep. The handful powdered herbs hung on the air for a moment, drifting slightly as if they floated on the surface of an invisible pond. Then it began to move. It spread itself throughout the house, dusting over every surface, scaling the walls and swishing through the ceiling beams. Everywhere the enchanted dust passed, surfaces were left clean and bright, not just relieved of the accumulated dirt and grime, but polished and repaired until everything looked as though it had been made yesterday. Satisfied that all was well, Kaito stepped out of the house and returned to the cart to help the others unpack. Sometimes it was very convenient to have a great magician for a father. 

When he reached the cart, he found Droite busily organizing the things Gauche had already unloaded, sorting them in order of what needed to go where, while Gauche labored to slide a heavy box off the back of the cart. Haruto, of course, was not expected to do any unpacking at all, and was instead relaxing in the shade of a chestnut tree, picking interestedly at the prickly seed pods to see if there were any nuts inside. 

Gauche grunted and managed to shift the crate he’d been dragging onto the ground. He paused to wipe his brow. 

“What in the seven hells have you got in there, anyway?” he asked Kaito. “Enough bricks to build an addition to the house? A lifetime’s supply of horseshoes?” 

“Help,” said Kaito. “Don’t complain. If you’d unloaded this box sooner, you wouldn’t be sweating so hard now. Watch.” 

With a few deft flicks of his knife, Kaito pried one side of the crate off. A lot of straw fell out, and Kaito swept it impatiently aside until the contents of the crate were visible. It was a automaton, an entity of wood, metal, and glass. This one was about three feet tall and had a vaguely humanlike head and torso mounted on a set of treads that allowed it to trundle easily over uneven terrain. Kaito couldn’t help smiling a little as he touched the combination of buttons that made it wake up. Magic hummed around it as it came out of its stasis. It shook itself and rolled out of the box. Gauche gave a gratifying yelp of surprise as he saw it move. 

“Boy, am I glad to be out of that box!” the automaton exclaimed. “You could have at least put some holes in it for me!” 

“And have you complain the whole ride over about getting dust in your gears? No thank you,” said Kaito dryly. “Quit yammering, Orbital, and start doing something useful, like helping Gauche get the rest of this stuff unloaded.” 

“You got it, sir!” said Orbital. He reversed direction and began moving back towards the cart. Gauche continued to stare. Droite looked amused. 

“What the hell is that thing?” Gauche demanded. 

Kaito shrugged. “Orbital Seven, we call him. He’s one of my father’s automatons. He has lots of them, to help him in his work, but he gave this one to me to act as my own personal helper. There’s another one in there, too, for general housekeeping purposes.” 

“I don’t see why you need another one,” Orbital grumped as he began passing boxes to Gauche. “I can do anything some other hunk of junk automaton can do.” 

“Maybe you have no ambition but to play housekeeper all day,” said Kaito dryly, “but I might have other uses for you, so we’re using a cleaning automaton. No more arguments!” 

Orbital flinched. “I’m not arguing! Who’s arguing? I’m just, you know, saying...” 

They reached the crate that contained the second automaton, and between them Orbital and Gauche were able to wrestle it onto the ground. Kaito pried this one open as well - Gauche seemed to have decided that it was better to leave this sort of thing to the experts - and dug out the egglike shape of the second automaton. 

“This one’s different,” Gauche remarked, as Kaito powered it on. 

“Different functions, different designs,” said Kaito absently. “Orbital is more of a general purpose automaton. This one was designed specifically for... ahh, there we go.” 

The automaton came to life with a faint whirring sound. It looked around, caught sight of the house, and went chugging towards it, looking ready to start work at once, even though the house was currently spotless. Orbital watched it go, his eyes shining. 

“She’s beautiful...” he murmured. 

Droite looked slightly scandalized. “How do you know it’s a she? Just because something does housework, it doesn’t follow that it’s a female.” 

Kaito shrugged. “I’ve never been able to tell the difference, but the automatons seem to know, and I suppose that’s all that matters. Now, come on. There’s still a lot to...” 

He trailed off. Kaito wasn’t the magician his father was, but he’d been around him long enough to have learned a trick or too. He knew what powerful magic felt like when it was going on in his immediate vicinity, and he had enough protective charms and amulets worked into his clothing and weapons that he could outmatch the average wizard and hold his own against an above-average one if he had to. Now every inch of his skin was buzzing with the feeling of something inimical and strong heading towards him - towards all of them - in a rapidly approaching wave. 

“Hit the dirt!” he shouted. In the same instant, he flung himself at Haruto and tackled him into the grass, shielding the boy with his body. Droite and Gauche copied him without stopping to ask questions. Droite plastered herself against the ground, and Gauche, nearest the cart, dove under it. Only then did Gauche bother to ask, “What...?” 

In the next instant, something buzzed over them. Kaito, who could actually _see_ magic, thanks to his father’s amulets, tipped his head up just enough to see it pass by. To his enhanced sight, it looked like the fragments of a stained glass window, millions of sharp-edged pieces spinning and tumbling through the air, glittering in jewel-toned shades of red, blue, purple, and pink. They might have been beautiful if he hadn’t also been able to see how sharp they were, and he guessed that anyone they struck was in for something more than just a nasty cut. No matter how much they looked like glass, he knew that was only the way his mind made sense of what he was seeing. Real glass, no matter how it was thrown or blasted, didn’t hover in a thin layer three feet off the ground in a steadily expanding ring. If the magic looked like sharp-edged chunks of glass, it was because the spell involved was meant to sink deeply and almost imperceptibly into whatever it struck. He stayed on the ground a few seconds after it had passed, waiting to see if there would be a second wave. When neither his physical nor magical senses reacted further, he picked himself up and began the important task of checking for damage. 

“Is everyone all right?” he asked briskly, as he began scanning Haruto for any sign that the magic had touched him. Not likely - he was, if anything, more heavily warded than Kaito was - but there was no chance that Kaito was going to let anything slip by him. 

“Fine, as far as I can tell,” said Gauche. He sounded perplexed and a little grouchy. “What happened? Don’t tell me it was just a hornet or something or I’m going to be pissed.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Droite. She gave Kaito one of her keen-eyed looks. “It was a spell, wasn’t it? You wouldn’t react like that to anything else.” 

“It was a spell,” Kaito agreed, “and I’ve never seen anything like it before. It was a nasty one, whatever it was. Good thing it didn’t have better aim, or it probably would have gotten some of us.” He frowned. “I wish it hadn’t passed by so fast. I couldn’t see it long enough to get a fix on what the hell it was supposed to do.” 

“Does it make any difference?” Gauche asked. “It missed us, didn’t it?” 

“Yes,” said Kaito, “but it didn’t stop here. It kept going, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it reached the village before long. I need to find out whether it hit anyone else, and what it did when it happened.” He began checking his pockets, making sure he had his weapons and his anti-magic charms near at hand. “I don’t want to be sitting here twiddling my thumbs when I find out it was a spell to incite the town to come after strangers with torches and pitchforks.” 

Droite came to set a hand on his arm. 

“Don’t rush off in too much of a hurry,” she said. “Let me scout the lay of the land first. It’s what I’m good at. If anything strange is going on, I’ll see it and report back to you before anyone knows I was there. You stay here and work on making sure this house his safe for Haurto.” 

Kaito started to object, then changed his mind and nodded. He could set up some rudimentary wards around the house that would ensure that any approaching problems would at least have to exert some effort if they wanted to get in side, and that would be enough to give the people inside time to work out how to either counterattack or escape. Droite couldn’t do much in the way of magic, but if there was anything in the village to be seen with the unaided eye, she’d see it before anyone saw her. 

“Right,” he said. “If you aren’t back in two hours, Gauche and I will come looking for you.” 

Droite nodded. Then she turned and slipped into the forest. Even Kaito, who knew what to watch for, lost sight of her almost instantly. He sighed. This was just one more thing to worry about. 

“Come on,” he said to Gauche. “Let’s get the rest of this stuff unloaded.” 

* * *

The lunch rush was just about over. Tetsuo picked his way through the empty tables, scooping used plates and empty mugs into a bin carried in one arm, using his free hand to flick crumbs off the tabletops with a rag. He’d been doing that sort of juggling act since he was old enough to reach the tables, and he could now do it without thinking twice about it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his round jolly mother chatting with the last few customers while his thin gruff father refilled mugs behind the bar. His sister Tetsuko was doing the same thing he was doing in another part of the room, though unlike him, she was engaging in a bit of mild flirtation with some of the younger and more attractive patrons. He considered that rather unfair - she was well known for being witty and attractive, and had a regular stable of admirers. Not a lot of women came into the tavern, though, which made the job rather less fun for him than it was for her. Not that he expected her to hang around town for very much longer. She’d already made up her mind and started saving up her pennies to travel to the city and open a place of her own, and with her cleverness and determination, she might just pull it off... 

He was jolted from his daydreaming by the sensation of something tugging at his trouser cuffs. He gave a yelp of surprise and nearly dropped his bus pan. He stifled a yelp and looked down, imagining everything from a protruding nail on one of the tables on up to attacking rats. Instead, he saw a vaguely familiar arm reaching out from beneath one of the largest tables in the room. 

“Psst!” hissed a vaguely familiar voice. “We’re down here!” 

Tetsuo cast a glance around the room. His mother was busy scolding a slightly tipsy man who’d managed to knock his drink onto the floor. His father was refilling a handful of mugs with his back to the room. His sister was telling an amusing story to her crowd of admirers. No one was paying any attention to Tetsuo. He dropped to his hands and knees, pretending to be picking up a dropped spoon. From that angle, he could see that it was Tokunosuke who had grabbed him, and that somehow Cathy, Kotori, and Takashi had gotten under there as well. The table, large as it was, looked a bit crowded. 

“What are you guys doing down here?” Tetsuo demanded. 

“Holding a secret meeting!” said Tokunosuke. He sounded thrilled at the very idea. 

“Yeah, well, why are you holding it down here?” asked Tetsuo. 

“This is the perfect place,” said Tokunosuke. “It’s right in the middle of a crowd, but it’s a place no one ever thinks to look!” 

“Great,” said Tetsuo, unconvinced. “So why are we having a secret meeting?” 

“It’s about Yuma,” said Cathy. “He went out to investigate the old cottage, and he hasn’t come back yet. We’re worried something happened to him.” 

“Why worry?” Tetsuo asked. “He probably just went and had a look and then went back to the temple. Wasn’t he picking some herbs for that old man he works for?” 

Kotori shook her head. “He was supposed to be, but I already asked Master Rokujuro, and he says Yuma hasn’t come back. I really am getting a bit worried.” 

Takashi nodded. “Yuma can be flighty, but in his own way, he usually is very reliable. When he says he’ll do something, he always finds a way to do it. To summarize, it’s not like Yuma not to come back after saying he would.” 

“Yeah, you could have a point,” Tetsuo allowed. “So the question is, what are we going to do about it? And why are we talking about it under the table?” 

Tokunosuke opened his mouth to answer, but before he could get a word out, something strange happened. Every person in the room suddenly flinched and emitted cries of pain or surprise. There was a breathless pause as everyone seemed to be frozen in place. Then, as if nothing had happened, everyone started talking again. 

“What was that?” asked Kotori, looking around the room in confusion. 

“I don’t know,” said Cathy. “It was weird, whatever it was.” 

“Well, everything seems to be normal again now,” said Takashi. 

Tetsuo, though, was not so sure. True, the men at the tables had gone back to eating and drinking, and his family had gone back to washing and serving. There was nothing out of place to be seen. And yet... 

And yet the atmosphere had changed. A moment ago, everyone had been more or less relaxed and having a good time. Even his family had been cheerful, comforted by their familiar daily tasks. Now there was a tension in the air that Tetsuo didn’t like one bit. The men who had been playfully flirtatious a moment ago were now staring at his sister with barely concealed lust - or staring at each other with looks of seething resentment. Tetsuko, for her part, had her lips pursed with an expression of disdain, as if she couldn’t believe that these men she had been joking with a moment before would dare to even speak to her. His mother scowled at all of them, apparently daring them to make a move, while his father scrubbed at the clean bar counter as if he intended to set it on fire with the friction of his scrubbing. 

_This is bad..._ was all he had time to think. 

Then the match touched the powder keg. One of the young men who had been eying Tetsuko made his move. She came a little too close when she reached for an empty plate, and he shot out his arm and manage to grab her wrist. She yelped in outrage as he managed to pull her into his lap and loop his arm around her waist. She hit him, hard - not a ladylike little slap but a proper closed-fist blow to the chin that snapped his neck back. His grip slackened as he slumped in his seat, semiconscious. Tetsuko jumped to her feet with eyes blazing. 

“How dare one of you _pigs_ lay a hand on me!” she shrieked. She kicked one of the men in the shin, apparently neither noticing nor caring that he wasn’t the one who had grabbed her in the first place. “I am so sick and tired of all of you ogling me all day long!” 

“Oh, yeah?” said one of the men, rising to his feet. “Well, I’m sick and tired of being led on by a bitch like you! You spend all day long flirting with every man who walks through the door but the minute one of them tries to take you up on the offer...” 

“Led on?” she snapped back. “Just because I bring you your drinks doesn’t mean I’m...” 

One of the other men turned on the first one who’d spoken. “What do you mean, flirting? What have you been doing with her when the rest of us aren’t looking?” 

“As if you didn’t know!” the other man shouted back. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other...” 

“Of course she looks at me! What other choice has she got? You look like the north end of a south-facing mule, and the rest of you look like what comes out of it!” 

“I’ve had it with all of you!” Tetsuko declared. “That’s it! I quit! I am going to the city where I can find some _real_ men and not a lot of backwards country yokels like you!” 

She turned and stormed out the door. A few of the men tried to chase after her. The rest turned to blaming each other. One of them threw a punch at the other, another drew a knife, and soon there was a roiling brawl. Tetsuo took one more look at the rapidly degenerating situation and dove under the table with the rest of his friends. Over the tumult, he heard his normally affable mother screaming, “This is all your fault! I wanted our daughter to get an education and make something of herself, and you said no, this tavern had been in your family and if being a pot maid was good enough for your mother it was good enough for your daughter. Now look at how things have turned out! A lot of men fighting over her as if she were a common streetwalker!” 

“Oh, so this is my fault now, is it?” his father snapped. “Well, maybe if you hadn’t put all those ideas in her head and make her think she was above her station, then she wouldn’t be so marrying and settling down like a proper girl.” 

“So you think all a woman is good for is settling down and raising a lot of brats?” His mother gave a loud snort. “Well, that explains a few things!” 

Tetsuo felt a bit sick. His parents had always been, so far as he knew, a happy couple, loving and supportive, cheerfully weathering whatever life threw at them as a team. He had never in his life heard either of them speak a sharp word to each other that wasn’t immediately followed by apologies. Part of him wanting to go chasing after his sister to protect her from the men following her (or, just as likely, to protect the men from her), and the other part wanted to close his eyes, cover his ears, and hope that when he dared to look again, this would turn out to have been some sort of bad dream. 

He was jolted from his spinning thoughts by the gentle touch of Kotori’s hand on his arm. 

“Come on,” she said. “We need to get out of here.” 

“But...” he protested weakly. He couldn’t think of what he needed to object to first. 

Kotori shook her head. “I may not know much about magic, but if that wasn’t a spell just now, I’ll eat my boots and have the buckles for dessert. We need to go to the temple and find Master Rokujuro. He may know what to do.” 

Tetsuo nodded, feeling his thoughts grind back into motion again. “Right. Come on, this way.” 

He began creeping across the floor on his hands and knees, trying to stay under tables or behind benches as much as possible. There was a regular brawl going on now, and he didn’t want to get caught up in it. His friends followed him. 

“Where are we going?” Takashi asked. 

“Cellar,” he said. “There’s a trapdoor behind the bar.” 

The others nodded and followed him around the perimeter of the room until they had managed to slink behind the bar. From there, Tetsuo was able to pry up the heavy wooden door that led down to the cellar. It was dark there, but there was a lamp sitting on the top step, and Tetsuo paused long enough to light it with a twig from the fireplace before following his friends down the stairs and pulling the trapdoor shut behind him. 

The trapdoor led down a short flight of steps and into a spacious cellar. The walls were lined with barrels and bottles and the various bits of equipment his father used for brewing drinks. 

“I never knew your dad had all this down here,” Tokunosuke remarked, peering at some of the bottles. 

“Yeah, normally he guards the place like the king’s own treasury,” said Tetsuo. “So don’t even think about sneaking down here, unless you want my ma to put you to work.” 

“I wasn’t thinking anything!” said Tokunosuke primly, and stuck his hands behind his back. 

At the other end of the cellar was a flight of stairs leading to Tetsuo’s family kitchen. He was slightly relieved to hear a lot of banging and clattering coming from his sister’s room upstairs. From the sound of it, she’d been able to give her pursuers the slip, and was now busily throwing everything she owned into a bag. In the state she was in, it would probably take her a while to realize that everything she owned was not going to fit into the available packing materials, longer still to find more baggage, and more yet to realize that she couldn’t actually carry it all herself and figure out what she was going to leave behind. Hopefully someone would find a solution to this disaster before she made it very far down the road. 

“Come on, this way!” said Cathy. 

She hastened everyone out into the back yard, which was taken up with a sizeable garden.The tavern had indeed been in the Takeda family for generations, and they’d had time to build up a pretty substantial garden in back. Much of what the family ate came from that garden, and the overflow went on the menu at the tavern. Cathy bounded through it all as lightly as the cat she resembled and slipped noiselessly into the trees beyond it. The others followed in her wake, with Tetsuo following cautiously in back, glancing frequently over his shoulder to see if they were being followed. All he saw was a spray of glass as someone threw a bottle through the tavern’s back window. He turned away, shaking his head sadly. 

That was when a strong pair of arms shot out of a shadow and grabbed him. 

* * *

“I still don’t see why you have to _follow_ me,” Yuma was complaining. “Can’t I just, you know, leave you somewhere?” 

“I have already explained the matter,” said Astral, maddeningly calm. “Since you did not understand my explanation the first several times, I see no benefit in continuing to repeat myself. Suffice it to say that I am bound to you, whether either of us like it or not. I myself would have preferred a more congenial jailer. It seems we will both just have to grow accustomed to one another.” 

“Fabulous,” Yuma muttered. 

He was stomping through the forest, not really paying attention to where he was going. He had no doubt of his ability to find his way home again if he wanted to, so now he was just moving at random, trying to burn off some of his irritation. He had never had any desire to be anyone’s jailer, but if he had to have that name applied to him, why had Fate decided to stick him with the most obnoxious possible prisoner? Already he was tired of his new charge’s attitude and they hadn’t known each other an hour yet. The only thing they’d managed to agree on so far was that it was important to get back to the village and see what that strange explosion might have done. 

After a while, Yuma began to realize that his path had taken him in a rough arc, leading him almost back to where he had started. He veered slightly and put himself back on the path towards the village. As he drew near the old woodcutter’s cottage, he slowed down. The people were still there, still unloading the last of the things from their cart, but they looked tense now, continually glancing up the road as if expecting to see something coming. They were so busy looking back that way that Yuma was able to walk right up to them without them realizing. 

“Hey there!” called Yuma, giving them a friendly wave. “What’cha doing?” 

Both Kaito and his tall red-haired friend whirled in place. The redhead unstrapped an axe from his belt that looked to Yuma like it must have weighed twenty pounds, and Kaito whipped out a pair of viciously sharp knives. The little boy, who had been resting under a tree, scrambled to his feet and stared. Yuma froze. 

“Uh, hi?” he offered. “Did I, uh, come at a bad time?” 

“Oh,” said Kaito, “it’s just you again.” He relaxed his stance a little, but he did not put his knives away. 

“You know this squirt?” his friend asked. 

“He says his name is Yuma,” said Kaito. “I ran into him in the village. Or, more accurately, he ran into me. I don’t think he’s dangerous, just clueless.” 

“Well, that’s all right then,” said the big man. He casually strapped his axe back to his belt. 

Meanwhile, the little boy came drifting over to Yuma’s side to stare fearlessly up at Astral. 

“What are you?” he asked. “I’ve never seen anyone like you before.” 

Kaito looked surprised. “Wait, what are you talking about?” 

“Him,” said the little boy, pointing up at Astral. “He’s different. He’s shiny, and he’s not wearing any clothes.” 

The big man scratched his head. “I hate to say it, but I think there’s something wrong with your kid brother.” 

“Shut up, Gauche,” said Kaito absently. He went to crouch by his brother’s side. “Okay, Haruto, tell me exactly what you see.” 

“There are two guys here,” said Haruto. From the measured way he spoke, Yuma thought that conversations like this must have happened more than once. “One of them is just ordinary, but he has a necklace that shines really bright. The other one is sort of blue and he’s floating and has marks all over.” His hands moved swiftly as he demonstrated on himself where Astral’s green markings were. Kaito listened with interest. 

“Huh,” he said. “Wait here.” 

He disappeared into the house, and from within Yuma could hear the sound of boxes being opened, shut, and shoved aside. Yuma looked to Gauche, who just shrugged and shook his head: _Don’t ask me why he does these crazy things._ A few moments later, Kaito came out again, carrying a charm on a leather strap. 

“Let’s see if this works as well as Dad said it would,” he muttered, and fastened it around his neck. He blinked a few times, squinting at the area next to Yuma, and then straightened up in surprise. “Well, would you look at that.” 

Astral looked at Yuma in confusion. “Is my appearance really so irregular?” 

“Probably,” said Yuma with a shrug. “I mean, we don’t exactly see a lot of elves in this place.” 

“I am not an elf,” said Astral haughtily. 

“No, he’s not,” said Kaito. He strolled in a circle, studying Astral from all angles. “If I were to take a guess, I’d say he’s some kind of magical construct, some kind of automaton or homunculus. A really sophisticated one, though - fully self-aware. I’ve never seen one quite like it.” 

“How do you know anything about that?” Yuma asked. “Are you some kind of wizard or something?” 

Kaito shook his head. “No, but my father is, and I’ve picked up a few things along the way.” He fixed a sharp stare first on Yuma, then on Astral. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like an explanation.” 

The tone of his voice suggested that even if Yuma did mind, there would still be explanations forthcoming eventually. The fact that one of Kaito’s hands was resting on the hilt of a belt knife just helped to drive the point home. 

“Right,” said Yuma. “Explanations. Um...” 

Between the two of them, he and Astral managed a reasonably coherent description of what had happened when Yuma found the ruins and the strange force field. Kaito frowned. 

“So you’re saying that you found an unidentified magical object lying around in the woods,” he said at length, “and instead of doing the sensible thing and leaving it alone, or better yet, finding someone who might know what it is and telling them about it, you had to go and poke it with a stick.” 

“Well, sure,” said Yuma. “What would you have done?” 

Kaito sighed. “Never mind. Stupid question. So, does your glowing friend here know what sort of spell you turned loose on the populace?” 

“He’s not my friend,” said Yuma automatically. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Astral half-turn and raise his chin a little higher, as if to make it clear that he was horrified at the very idea of being considered a friend of Yuma’s. 

“Fine, fine. Your companion or charge or associate or whatever he is,” said Kaito. “One of you just answer the question.” 

“I am afraid I don’t know the precise effect of the spell,” said Astral. “I can only offer an educated guess.” 

“Fine, guess away,” said Kaito. “I’m glad someone around here is educated.” 

“Here is what I surmise,” said Astral. “There is a possibility that my power could be used by a human for nefarious purposes. My people would have foreseen such a possibility and done something to ensure that such a thing would not happen, and probably arranged it in such a way that no one who wasn’t there to witness the spell being cast would realize that magic was involved. It would be something that would seem natural, or at least attributable to natural causes.” 

“So they’re not likely to turn into guinea pigs,” said Kaito, “or suddenly drop dead for no reason. That’s something.” 

“Yeah, but what’s going to happen?” asked Yuma, feeling a stab of concern. “I’ve got family and friends and stuff back in the village! What’s your stupid spell going to do to them?” 

Kaito rolled his eyes in a patently unhelpful manner. “Why are you complaining? You’re the one who released the spell.” 

“Yeah, but it wasn’t _my_ spell. I just found it,” said Yuma. 

He thought this was a pretty solid argument, but no one else looked very impressed. 

“Again, I can only guess,” said Astral, “but I imagine that the spell will most likely alter their behavior in some way as to distract them from getting too curious about me.” 

“What do you mean, alter?” Yuma asked. 

Astral raised his hands in a gesture of bemusement. “I have no way of knowing. It could alter their memories, or confuse them with illusions, or fill them all with an irrational sense of fear, or any such thing. I was already in stasis when the spell was constructed, so I really have no idea.” 

“Then we gotta go find out!” said Yuma. He began running up the path to the village, but he’d barely gone three steps before Gauche reached out a hand and snagged him by the collar, hauling him straight off his feet. 

“Easy there, kiddo,” he said. “Let’s not get carried away here.” 

“But, but!” Yuma protested. 

“No, this idiot here is right for once,” said Kaito. “You can’t stop a spell by rushing at it. You have to have a plan... and to do that, we need more information.” 

“So how are we going to get more information?” Yuma asked. “In case you didn’t notice, the village is about a mile that way, and we can’t see what’s going on from here.” 

“Simmer down,” said Gauche. “Our friend Droite has already gone to the village to check things out. She’ll scope out what’s going on down there, and then she’ll come back and tell us about it, and _then_ we can think about what we’re going to do.” 

“Normally I would object to this ‘we’ thing,” said Kaito. “But in this case, I’m going to have to agree. This isn’t my problem, but I don’t feel like living next to an enchanted village, especially not if it’s likely to be a threat to my brother.” 

Yuma scowled at him. Selfish jerk, talking like it would be just fine to let a whole village succumb to... well, whatever had been done to him, as long as it didn’t affect him or his family. What kind of attitude was that to have? 

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll let you help if you want to. So, where’s this Droite, anyway? When is she coming back?” 

Gauche frowned, absently letting Yuma settle back to the ground again. “I dunno. She’s been gone a while, hasn’t she? I’d have figured she’d be back by now.” 

“She has been gone a long time. That’s not like her,” Kaito agreed. He looked worried. “Great. Well, congratulations, Yuma.” 

“What do you mean?” Yuma asked, trying to put his clothes back in order. 

Kaito started walking towards the path. “Because it looks like we’re going to have to bust in after all.”


	3. A Place of Safety

It was hard to believe. At first, there had been nothing but trees. Even now, there was no sign that anyone had been nearby. Tetsuo could have sworn that the forest had been completely empty of anything human up until just now. 

Still, he couldn’t deny that someone had hold of him now. Tetsuo gave a cry of surprise and tried to squirm away. The grip that held his arms shifted, so fast that he didn’t even have time to draw a complete breath before he found himself with an arm looped around his neck while the assailant’s free hand went over his mouth. 

“Don’t scream,” said a voice in his ear. “You’ll only draw their attention.” 

Tetsuo was too surprised to react. The voice was unfamiliar, but definitely female. He nodded as best he could with an arm around his neck, trying to show he was willing to cooperate. It must have been the right thing to do. The grip on his throat released. 

“Follow me,” said the voice. “Your friends are already safe.” 

Tetsuo turned around and found himself looking into the pale eyes of a young woman, probably not very much older than himself. She had short dark hair and was dressed in form-fitting clothing of practical material, and she had a brace of knives strapped to her belt. Under other circumstances, he would have called her pretty. She certainly was attractive, but she also looked dangerous, and definitely not to be trifled with. 

“Who are you? What did you do with my friends?” he asked. 

“Made them safe,” she replied. “As best I can. Come on, I’ll show you.” 

With no better options, Tetsuo followed her into the forest. They were almost immediately swallowed up by foliage. Tetsuo found himself wondering just what this strange woman had done to his friends. He couldn’t see or hear them anywhere, and he’d barely turned his back on them for an instant. How could they have vanished so fast? Had this strange woman knifed them and hidden them under a shrub? 

“Watch your step,” she said. 

“Huh?” he replied, only half listening. 

The next instant, he experienced a sensation as if he’d put his foot down on what seemed to be solid ground and it had crumbled away beneath him. At the same time, lights seemed to burst in front of his eyes like tiny fireworks. He stumbled, flinging out his arms to try to catch himself, and felt hands reaching out to steady him. 

“Are you okay?” He was relieved to recognized Kotori’s voice. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. 

“It feels weird, doesn’t it?” asked Cathy sympathetically. “Don’t worry, it goes away fast.” 

“What the heck just happened?” Tetsuo asked. Sure enough, the blindness and disorientation were fading quickly. Already he could see the shapes of his friends looking fairly comfortable as they sat on the ground or leaned against trees. Cathy had actually climbed onto a low branch, lounging like one of the cats she admired so much. None of them seemed bothered by the presence of the strange woman. 

“I’m sorry,” she said briskly, “but the situation was becoming unstable. I felt it was best to get you all under cover before things got even more complicated than they already are.” 

“Uh-huh,” said Tetsuo. “So... who are you again?” 

“I’d like to know that too,” said Tokunosuke. He glared at the woman, doing his best to look imposing. Since she was a good deal taller than him, it didn’t accomplish very much. “Who are you and what do you know about what’s going on? Is all this weird stuff your fault? Come on, spill?” 

The woman gave him a long cool look to let him know she wasn’t impressed, then turned pointedly towards Tetsuo and the others. 

“My name is Droite,” she said. “I’m a warrior. I came to this town with my employer, as part of his personal guard. A short while ago, he detected evidence that a powerful spell had just been released, and he sent me to investigate its effects.” Her lips pressed into a grim smile. “Obviously there have been some.” 

“So everyone is acting weird because of a spell?” asked Kotori. “What sort of spell? Where did it come from?” 

“I wish I knew,” said Droite. “All I know is that the people who were struck by it seem to lose the better part of their self-control and start acting on the unpleasant impulses that they would normally have the sense not to indulge. Old grudges, forbidden desires, little hurts that they would normally brush off. I’ve seen it happening all over town. What I want to know is why you four were spared.” 

“No idea,” said Tetsuo. 

The rest of his friends shook their heads, looking just as mystified as he felt. Droite gave a small resigned shrug. 

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” she said. “The point is that you are all in danger. In a village that small, no one is isolated from anyone else. Anyone you meet is potentially an enemy, at least until the spell can be broken. The concealment charm I’ve set up here will keep you all safe for now, but I don’t know how long it will hold. Do you have a safe place you can go? Not your homes, but somewhere else?” 

“We were going to go see Master Rokujuro,” said Kotori. “He’s the master of the temple at the edge of town.” 

Droite looked thoughtful. “A temple might be protected by its own positive aura, and then again, it might not. Still, it does seem like the most promising option. If you are going there, I will go with you and ensure you arrive safely.” 

Tokunosuke’s eyes narrowed. “How do we know we can trust you? Maybe you were the one who set all this up just to trap us!” 

“Maybe,” she said, “but I could just as easily suspect you of setting this up to make me trust you, and with just as much justification. For all I know, it’s the practice of this town to play tricks on newcomers to humiliate them, or worse. Perhaps we should just agree to trust each other, yes?” 

Cathy giggled. “Better look out, Tokunosuke. I think she’s even more suspicious than you are.” 

“Humph,” said Tokunosuke, folding his arms and looking miffed. 

“I think we should trust her,” said Kotori. “She could have hurt us and she hasn’t. Anyway, if things are really that bad out there, we might need help.” 

“Kotori’s right,” said Tetsuo. “I vote we go for it.” 

Cathy nodded. Tokunosuke still looked suspicious, but after a bit of staring and grumbling, he too acquiesced. Droite looked satisfied. 

“Well, then,” she said, “show me the way to this temple.” 

The five of them set out towards the edge of the village. Droite was the last to leave, carefully dismantling her hiding charm before she left. Somehow that made Tetsuo feel a little better. This was plainly a woman of some caution and foresight, someone who left nothing to chance and rarely overlooked anything. Tetsuo didn’t know anything about magic except for the highly specialized bits and pieces that Yuma had picked up at the temple and then let drop to his friends, but he had learned that leaving even a used-up charm lying around was an invitation to trouble. If another magic user found it, they could potentially use it to get up to all sorts of mischief. The likelihood of anyone that powerful coming anywhere near this village and mucking around in an overgrown forest on the off chance of finding such a small charm was remote, but obviously not remote enough that Droite felt comfortable being careless. Well, good for her. 

As it turned out, they were all grateful for her company. The town they returned to was a scene of utter chaos. Spouses with long and happy marriages behind them were screaming and throwing things at each other, carrying on loudly enough to be heard in the streets. In the marketplace, people were openly stealing from the stalls and smashing shop windows. Rowdy young men chased after the village girls like a pack of hounds after a rabbit, right up until the point where those girls’ fathers and brothers came out to join the battle. There was blood in the streets already, and there was a scent of smoke coming from the bakery. Tetsuo hoped that it was only that the staff had run off without removing the bread from the ovens, and not that someone had deliberately set the place on fire. 

“This is horrible,” Kotori murmured. “Can’t you do something? You have magic, right?” She looked pleadingly at Droite, who shook her head. 

“I’m not a magician myself,” she said. “I get my charms pre-made through my employer. There’s nothing in my arsenal big enough to deal with this.” 

“But people are getting hurt!” Takashi protested. He was staring wide-eyed at the town courthouse, where people seemed to be trying to organize a riot. They were hindered by the fact that no one seemed to be able to agree on what they were rioting about, and kept breaking off into smaller groups that ran off chasing each other around the village square. A few members of the town guard seemed to be trying to protect Takashi’s father, but they were doing so in such an aggressive manner that they were really only making matters worse. The mayor himself was leaning out one of the upper windows of the town hall, alternately upbraiding his men for not doing their jobs and screaming at the populace for being ignorant yokels who didn’t know when something was for their own good. It did not seem to be doing much to calm anyone down. 

“If this doesn’t stop soon, a war is going to break out,” Tetsuo muttered. 

Cathy sniffed. “A cat would never behave like this, you know.” 

With their knowledge of the town’s layout and Droite’s skill at dodging and hiding, the group was able to wind their way through town without incident. Tetsuo was relieved to see that the temple looked relatively untroubled. No one seemed to want to even go as far as the low wooden fence that surrounded it. Droite glanced at the others, making sure that this was indeed the right place, before stepping forward to open the gate. She had one hand on a knife, preparing to defend the others if it should turn out that there was danger lurking inside. The gate swung open easily, with only the slightest creak of its wooden hinges. Droite stepped inside. 

A sword snapped down in front of her. Instantly, she dropped into a protective stance, one hand holding a blade while the other remained outstretched, blocking the threat from getting to her charges. 

“I’m warning you,” she said, “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t put that sword away right now.” 

“And why should I let you pass?” asked a deep male voice. A shape stepped out from behind one of the pillars that lined the walk to the temple, and Tetsuo recognized Yamikawa, the sometimes hotheaded acolyte who studied under Master Rokujuro’s tutelage. 

“Relax, Yamikawa,” he said. “It’s just us. We wanted to check on the master.” 

Yamkikawa looked away from Droite long enough to register Tetsuo and the others. 

“Ah, you’re Yuma’s friends,” he said, sheathing his sword. “You should have said that to begin with. My apologies for startling you.” 

He bowed respectfully to Droite. She watched him straighten, then slowly sheathed her dagger again. 

“Forgive me,” she said, giving a small nod in return. “I take the safety of my charges very seriously.” 

“Understandable,” said Yamikawa. “Please, come inside, and I’ll take you to Master Rokujuro. He’ll be glad to see you all.” 

He shut the gate firmly behind them after they’d entered, and then led them briskly up the front walk. 

“Master Rokujuro is using his powers to keep this place free of negative influences,” Yamikawa explained as they entered the temple, “but he wasn’t entirely certain that he could keep out every source of danger. I’ve been stationed at the gate to keep troublemakers away. Ordinarily we’re more welcoming towards strangers here.” 

“Completely understandable,” said Droite. “Things are rather unsettled today.” 

Yamikawa gave her a thin smile. “That’s one way of putting it.” 

He led them through a sanctuary, where the villagers gathered on holy days, and through to a network of smaller studies, workrooms, and storerooms that were normally off-limits to the public. In one of these small rooms, they found Master Rokujuro sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, apparently meditating. Respectfully, Yamikawa knelt on the floor in front of him before addressing him. 

“Master,” he said, “we have guests.” 

Master Rokujuro slowly opened his eyes. He was hardly a prepossessing man, being small and wizened, balding on top, looking more like someone’s kindly grandfather than someone due all the reverence he received. And yet, even Yuma had been known to obey him on occasion. He was, in fact, a powerful magician-priest, and within his sphere of influence there wasn’t much he couldn’t do. True, he mostly confined himself to teaching and healing, but Tetsuo’s father had told him that long ago when he’d been Tetsuo’s age, the village had been invaded by bandits, and Master Rokujuro had made the statues in the sanctuary get up and walk to fight the bandits off. That was enough to make Tetsuo almost wish for more bandits, just so he could see it. 

“I see we do,” said the old man, smiling warmly. “Greetings, friends. I’m glad to see you all, particularly in such troubled times.” 

“Do you know what’s going on outside?” asked Kotori. 

Rokujuro chuckled. “Well, that depends on what you mean. I know that our village has been swept by a powerful spell that’s doing a lot of damage. What I don’t know is what caused it or how to make it go away.” 

Tetsuo’s jaw dropped. “You mean you can’t fix it?” He realized now that he had been counting on the master to be able to fix this mess. Hearing him say that he couldn’t do anything about it made his heart sink. 

“It’s an old and powerful spell,” said Rokujuro. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s been all I can do to keep this space purified.” 

Tokunosuke looked thoughtful. “What if we brought the people here? Would that fix them?” 

“No,” said Rokujuro sadly. “My shield is keeping out any trace of the spell. They can’t get inside the temple grounds for as long as I keep it up.” 

“So what are we going to do?” asked Cathy in a wail. “We can’t just leave them that way!” 

“I don’t know,” said Rokujuro. “I can promise that if you or anyone else who wasn’t taken by the spell can take shelter here for as long as they need to. Beyond that, I don’t know what else I can do without knowing more about the spell that did this.” 

“That is unfortunate,” said Droite. “But I am glad that you’ll be keeping these people safe. Thank you for admitting me, but now that I’ve delivered my charges safe, I need to be leaving.” 

“You’re going?” asked Tokunosuke, looking crestfallen. Apparently seeing the situation in the village had been enough to convince him that the scary lady with the knives was someone he wanted on his side. 

“I have to,” she said. “I promised to get you here safely, and I have. If I meet anyone else on the road who isn’t under the spell, I’ll send them this way, but I have to return to my employer now.” 

With that, she nodded once again to Master Rokujuro, and then turned on her heel and marched off. Tetsuo watched her go with a sinking sensation. Yes, he and his friends were safe, but they couldn’t stay at this temple forever. What were they going to do now? 

* * *

“This is stupid,” said Gauche. 

“I agree with you,” said Kaito. He glared over his shoulder at Yuma. “Couldn’t you have stayed behind? We don’t need you.” 

The three of them were hurrying up the road into town as fast as they could go. Kaito had half expected Yuma to be left behind before long, but the little guy was surprisingly quick. They had been running full tilt this whole time, and Yuma wasn’t even short of breath yet. Kaito was going to find himself seriously annoyed if he ended up being the one who fell behind. 

“Sure you do,” said Yuma. “You’re new here. You don’t know your way around town.” 

“It’s a street with some houses along it,” said Kaito. “I rode down it once already today. I haven’t forgotten what it looks like. I could find this temple of yours just by knocking on doors until I found the right one.” 

“Yeah, but Master Rokujuro won’t recognize you, and he’s really scary when he gets mad,” said Yuma. “You’ll need me to convince him you guys are okay.” 

“Why wouldn’t we be okay?” Gauche asked. 

Yuma looked up at him. “Because you’re about three times his size and carrying an axe?” 

Despite everything else that was going on, Kaito couldn’t help smirking. “He’s got you there, Gauche.” 

Gauche snorted. “I still say he should have stayed home with the kid and the automatons.” 

“No,” said Kaito with a shudder. “I am _not_ leaving him alone with my brother. Who knows what he’d do?” 

“Your brother’s very sick, isn’t he?” asked Yuma, suddenly serious. 

Kaito stared at him. He had been proceeding thus far under the assumption that Yuma was basically an idiot. Nothing he had seen so far had convinced him that this boy had the sense or perceptiveness of a tree stump. 

“How did you know that?” he demanded. 

“Well, it’s kind of obvious, isn’t it?” said Yuma. “I mean, he just _feels_ sick, you know?” 

“You barely even saw him,” said Kaito. “How would you know anything about - ow!” 

He’d turned his head, the better to glare at Yuma, and had stumbled on a rut in the road. The resulting fall scraped the palms of his hands as he fell. He got up cursing, wiping grit from his abrasions. 

“Look what you made me do,” he muttered. 

“I didn’t do it!” Yuma protested. 

“You distracted me,” said Kaito. 

“Well, do you want me to fix it?” asked Yuma, with a flash of eagerness. 

Kaito stared at him. “What do you mean, do I want you to...” 

But before he could even finish the sentence, Yuma had grabbed his hands. Kaito gave a yelp, more of surprise and indignation than pain. Then his surprise was eclipsed by an even greater surprise. An instant after Yuma touched him, the air thrummed with a surge of magic, as strong and pure as anything Kaito had ever experienced, even in the presence of his father’s mightiest spells. He almost didn’t notice when the pain in his hands disappeared. 

“There,” said Yuma, proudly, stepping away and releasing Kaito’s hands. “All better!” 

Kaito carefully flexed his hands and stared at his palms in surprise. There was no sign of any injury, not even the scarring that often accompanied a rushed magical healing. There was no sign that he’d been hurt at all. He looked back at Yuma, suddenly annoyed. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a magician?” he demanded. 

“I thought you knew!” said Yuma, all wide-eyed innocence. “I told you I worked with Master Rokujuro in the temple, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean...” Kaito began, and then gave up. “All right, fine, you’re a magician. How much can you do?” 

“Healing, mostly,” said Yuma. “It’s just something I’ve always been able to do. I don’t really get why.” 

Unexpectedly, Astral put in, “Healing magic is chaos magic.” 

Kaito looked up at him. “Come again?” 

“The world,” said Astral, “is balanced between forces of order and chaos. Any magic one can perform is either the magic of chaos, the magic of order, or neutral. Healing magic is chaos magic.” 

“I’d have thought it would be the other way,” said Kaito. “Isn’t healing bringing order to something?” 

Astral shook his head. “Chaos is change. Healing is a kind of change, and healing magic speeds up that change. The magic of order is the magic of making things stay as they are.” 

“Doesn’t sound like very powerful magic,” said Yuma. 

“You’d be surprised,” said Astral primly. 

“Hey guys,” said Gauche, “hate to interrupt your magic lesson, but we’ve got company!” 

He pointed up the road. Kaito, fearing the worst, followed his gaze, but what he saw was enough to make him sigh with relief. Droite was hurrying towards them. He raised a hand to let her know he’d seen her. 

“There you are,” he said, when they were within speaking distance. “We were starting to think you needed us to come bail you out.” 

She inclined her head. “I’m sorry. I got sidetracked.” 

“ _You_ got sidetracked?” Gauche repeated. “How did that happen?” 

“I found a few people who weren’t affected by the spell, for some reason,” said Droite. “The best course of action seemed to be to help them reach a point of safety. The temple at the edge of the village seems to be shielded from negative influences, so I left them there before returning here.” 

“That’s not part of your job description,” said Kaito, “but in this case I suppose I’ll let it pass. Did anyone there know anything that might help us get out of this situation?” 

Droite shook her head. “Unfortunately, no.” 

“Damn,” Kaito muttered. “Well, let’s start there anyway, and then we can figure out what to do next once we’re somewhere secure.” 

“All right!” said Yuma, bounding into motion. “Come on, it’s this way!” 

“Wait up!” Kaito shouted at him. “You’re going to get yourself killed!” 

If Yuma heard him, he didn’t bother to answer. He continued scampering ahead without so much as slowing down, with Astral swooping along behind him like a tail on a kite. Kaito made an untranslatable growling noise and broke into a run. 

_Why did I let myself get involved with this idiot? He’s going to get us all into trouble. Bad enough we’re in this situation at all, but to have him getting in the way on top of everything else... I have no idea what to do as it is. I could try to get in touch with Father, but it could take days for any help to get here from the city. I don’t even know if he’s ever dealt with Fae magic before. Damn it all, we came here to get some peace and quiet!_

He fumed all the way to the temple, but settled a little once he’d stepped beyond the front gate. Maybe it was just his father’s amulets making him more sensitive to the place’s holy energy, but somehow he didn’t think so. He got the impression that this temple had been there a long, long time, and that all that time had been dedicated to doing good and seeking peace. The tranquility of generations of priests and priestesses had sunk into the very earth. Under other circumstances, he would have found himself tempted to settle down under one of the immense old pines that lined the front walk and have himself a quick nap. As it was, he could only look admiringly up at the grand facade of the temple, still elegant and well-cared for despite its age, and make a mental note to bring Haruto here as soon as it could be arranged. Surely he would start to feel better if he could spend time around this place. 

Yuma, unsurprisingly, had dashed through the front door without bothering to check and be sure that everyone else was following him. Kaito was forced to follow the sound of voices deeper into the temple, where he eventually found Yuma being greeted enthusiastically by a group of others who must have been friends of his, while a little old man looked on with a smile. Another, younger man stood off in a corner. His alert posture and keen gaze made Kaito decide that he was a warrior, and probably quite a good one. The sword he wore at his side was clearly more than merely ceremonial. 

The old man turned his gaze on Kaito, Gauche, and Droite. 

“Ah,” he said. “Hello again, young lady. Have you brought me more guests?” 

“This is Kaito and his friends,” said Yuma, gracelessly interjecting himself into the conversation. “They’re the ones who just moved into that old house.” 

A young man with large spectacles and decidedly untrustworthy features gave Kaito the once-over. 

“So, you come to town and then this happens?” he asked suspiciously. “Is this your fault, then?” 

“No, it’s _his_ fault,” said Kaito, pointing at Yuma. 

Everyone looked at Yuma, who was doing a very good impression of perfect innocence, and back at Kaito. He had to admit that between the number of weapons he was carrying and the presence of two very capable-looking bodyguards, he probably did look like the more likely suspect. He scowled. 

“It is _not_ my fault,” he insisted, “but I’m going to do what I can to make it right. You all just stay here where it’s safe, and these two and I will go into town and see what we can do to calm things down.” 

Yuma looked hurt. “But you can’t just leave me here!” 

“I can’t take you with me,” Kaito replied. “You’d just get in the way. The only reason I brought you here was that I didn’t trust you to stay with my kid brother. Now you’re safe, so you can just stay out of my way.” 

“But...!” Yuma protested. 

Kaito ignored him. He turned on his heel, gesturing for his entourage to follow him. 

“Come on,” said Kaito. “We need to go fix the problems that _somebody_ caused before someone out there gets killed.” 

He stalked off, his boot heels clicking audibly on the stone floor. Not so loudly, though, that he couldn’t hear someone behind him mutter, “What a jerk.” It annoyed him. What right did they have to criticize? He was trying to _help_ them. Well, they’d change their minds after he solved their problems for them. 

Just as soon as he figured out how.


	4. Combined Efforts

“This stinks,” Yuma muttered. 

“Well, at least we’re all safe in here,” said Kotori. She was plainly trying to raise his spirits, but he could hear the lack of conviction in her voice. He guessed she was thinking of all the people outside who were still suffering from the spell with no help in sight. 

“Do you think it will wear off?” asked Cathy. 

“It depends on the kind of spell it was,” said Master Rokujuro. “Some spells are self-limiting, others are self-perpetuating. From the way Yuma describes it, I’m afraid this one sounds like the self-perpetuating type.” 

Tetsuo looked alarmed. “You mean, unless someone does something, the spell will last forever? But that’s my family out there!” 

“And mine!” Takashi added. “This is really bad. What are we going to do?” 

“It sounds like that guy was planning on fixing it himself,” said Cathy hopefully. “Maybe he’ll figure something out.” 

“I don’t think so,” said Yuma. “I mean, the way he talked, it sounded like he didn’t really know what to do and was hoping Master Rokujuro could do it. Anyway, he’s right. I’m the one who messed things up, so I’m the one who ought to fix it.” 

“How are you going to do that?” asked Tokunosuke, sounding interested. 

“I don’t know yet,” said Yuma, “but there’s got to be something I can do. Do you think healing magic would work to get those weird shards out?” 

Master Rokujuro looked thoughtful. “You could try it and see. It could be difficult, though, getting someone to stand still long enough for you to try.” 

“Well, I’m going to try anyway!” said Yuma. “What do you say, guys? Are you in?” 

His friends looked doubtful. After a few seconds, Tetsuo said, “Well, it’s better than sitting around here.” 

“Great! Let’s go!” said Yuma. 

Feeling energized now that he was no longer faced with an indeterminate period of just sitting and doing nothing, he raced towards the exit. A commotion behind him announced that at least some of his friends had decided to come along. 

A flicker of motion caught Yuma’s eye, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned and saw Astral hovering there. It was going to take some time to get used to having his own personal Fae shadow. 

“Are you quite certain that this is a good idea?” asked Astral. “It seems a rather reckless plan of action, if you can call this a plan.” 

“Have you got any better ideas?” Yuma asked. 

“You should remain within this temple,” said Astral. “It seems to be safe here, and the old man has offered his hospitality. It is regrettable that your village should have been caught in the spell, but since there is nothing you can do to help them...” 

“There is _not_ nothing!” Yuma shouted, and then paused. “Wait does that make sense? Never mind. If you aren’t going to help, then just be quiet!” 

“I don’t understand how you expect to get something done when you have no idea what it is you are going to do,” said Astral. 

“That _definitely_ didn’t make any sense,” said Yuma, and kept running. 

They met their first villager shortly after that. It was a young man that Yuma knew vaguely, one of the tailor’s apprentices. He was hurrying down the road with a bundle slung over his back. It looked as though he’d used some of his master’s cloth to gather up whatever valuables he could find, and was now hurrying out of town as fast as he could go. Apparently, though, a life of sitting and sewing had not prepared him for a long journey with a heavy bag on his back, and he was already puffing and sweating. Yuma stood in the middle of the path, blocking his way, and the young man walked straight into him. 

“Hey!” he yelped. “Get away from me!” 

“You walked into me,” said Yuma reasonably. 

The man shuffled away, clutching at his bundle. A paper of pins and two large brass buttons fell out, and he quickly crouched to stuff them back in again. 

“You can’t have this!” he snarled. “It’s mine!” 

“That’s okay. I don’t want it,” said Yuma soothingly. 

The man didn’t seem to hear him. “I spend all day sewing up hems for people who think they’re so much better than me. Where would they be if they didn’t have me to sew up their fancy clothes, huh? Just like everyone else! I’m sick of making nice things for everyone and never getting anything for myself...” 

He continued to mutter in this vein for a while, clutching at his bundle and eyeing Yuma warily. Yuma approached him cautiously, as he would a dog he wasn’t sure was friendly. 

“Easy, now,” he said. “This won’t hurt a bit, probably...” 

He made a grab, missed, tried again, and finally managed to latch on to the man’s elbow. It wasn’t the optimal point to start a spell, but he supposed that under the circumstances it would do. The man tried to wrench himself away, but Yuma had a good grip, and once the spell had started it would keep them linked together until Yuma chose to let go. He hastily spun out a few tendrils of magic to enforce his grip, and then drew a breath, closed his eyes, and prepared to tackle the unknown. 

To his inner eye, the shard of the spell stood out brightly, like sunlight shining through stained glass. Yuma tried first to use his magic to dissolve the fragment, as he would an infection or a tumor, and then tried tugging it out as though it were a splinter. Nothing he tried worked. At last, he gave up and released his hold. He staggered backwards, sweating and panting. 

“How long was I out?” he asked. 

He hadn’t been expecting an answer, but Astral replied promptly, “Seven minutes and twelve seconds.” 

Yuma looked at him in surprise. Astral blinked at him. The man with the bundle groaned and twitched a little, having collapsed onto the ground in a semiconscious state once the spell released him. The clashing of the two spells inside his already tired body had probably frazzled him a little. Yuma and Astral both ignored him. 

“How did you know that?” Yuma asked. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Astral replied. 

Yuma wasn’t sure he could explain why it was weird to be conversing with someone who was apparently a living timepiece, so he let it drop. 

“Wow, seven minutes,” he said instead. “I don’t think it’s ever taken me longer than five to work a spell. No wonder I’m tired.” 

“That was an impressive feat of magic,” said Astral, with grudging admiration. 

Yuma glared at him. “What do you mean? It didn’t work!” 

“Well, no,” said Astral, “but all the same, I’ve never seen a human wielding such pure Chaos energy. Usually you humans are a balance of the two forces, so that they cancel each other out. It’s very rare for a human to have enough of one or the other to be noticeable.” 

“Well, it sure isn’t doing me any good now,” said Yuma. He watched rather despondently as the man he’d tried to heal staggered dazedly to his feet. “If that shard is Order magic and my magic is Chaos magic, how come I couldn’t pull it out?” 

“I suppose the spell must be stronger than your magic, potent though it is,” said Astral. “What a pity that such power is wasted on someone so irresponsible.” 

“Hey!” said Yuma, whirling on him. “I’m _trying_ to fix this! This is my village and my people and I’d do anything I can to help them! Maybe instead of criticizing me, you could help! You’re a magic thing - don’t you have anything that can help?” 

Astral shrugged. “Probably not. I was created for battle, not for healing.” 

“Well, you’re a big help,” Yuma muttered. “What were they so worried about that they had to seal you up if you can’t do anything?” 

“I can do lots of things,” said Astral. “Just not this thing.” 

“Well, then, do one of them!” Yuma demanded. 

Astral gave him a blank look. “I don’t see what I can...” 

“Just help! If my power isn’t enough, let me use some of yours!” Yuma insisted, and grabbed Astral’s hand. 

He hadn’t been entirely sure what he’d been expecting. As ephemeral as Astral was, Yuma had been half-certain that he wouldn’t be able to grab him at all. He certainly didn’t have a plan for what he’d do once he’d managed to latch hold of him. Yet, his hands closed around Astral’s, and he felt the cool electric jolt of powerful magic. Astral, he realized, wasn’t just a creature with magical powers. He was _made_ of magic, and his power was indistinguishable from his self. Now that power ran up Yuma’s arm and settled in his chest, filled his mind and his vision, and the whole world went white... 

Then it cleared again. Yuma blinked, feeling odd. Not a bad sort of odd - if anything, he felt refreshed, as if he’d just had a dip in a cool spring. His mind was clear and calm, in a way that was unfamiliar but not altogether unpleasant. Normally his thoughts tended to tumble through his head in an only vaguely related manner, and it was a strange sensation to suddenly find the world pared down to such simple and unambiguous terms. 

Then a voice in his mind said, _Your mind really is a confusing place._

“What? Huh?” Yuma exclaimed. 

He shook himself out of his daze and looked down at himself. His whole appearance seemed to have changed. He found himself encased in some sort of armor, white and red and form-fitting, made of some strange smooth material unlike anything he’d ever touched before. He fumbled at it. It didn’t seem to want to come off. 

“What did you do to me?” he demanded. He looked around, trying to figure out where Astral had gone. 

_I could ask the same of you,_ said Astral’s voice tartly. _I can say with a reasonable degree of certainty that whatever has happened just now, it is most likely your fault._

“Hey, I didn’t do it on purpose!” Yuma protested. “I just wanted to borrow a little of your energy - see if I could get enough to get rid of that stupid shard!” 

_Well, now you have it,_ was the dry retort, _so I suggest that you go ahead and do what you were going to do, because I do not think that this confluence of our powers will be able to perpetuate itself for very long._

“Uh... right,” said Yuma. He decided not to say that he wasn’t completely sure what that last bit had meant. It would only get him another snide remark anyway. “Okay, here goes nothing!” 

Once again, he reached for the shard lodged in the tailor’s soul. The result was enough to make his head rock back in surprise. Power _surged_ through him, taking his breath away. Without thinking about it, he channeled it all towards the spell-shard, and felt it shatter and fall away into nothingness. He gave a whoop of delight. 

“That was _awesome!_ ” he enthused. 

_It would appear to have accomplished our objective admirably,_ Astral agreed. 

That was true. The tailor was sitting in the middle of the road, rubbing his head and looking dazed. 

“How did I get out here?” he asked the air in general. “And why am I carrying all this stuff? This isn’t even my stuff.” 

“You were under a spell,” Yuma explained. “But it’s okay! I fixed you!” 

_I believe you meant to say **we** fixed him,_ Astral corrected, but the tailor couldn’t hear him and Yuma didn’t listen. 

“A spell,” the tailor mumbled. “I was really angry about something, but now I can’t remember...” 

“It’s okay,” Yuma told him. “Just... maybe don’t go into town just yet, all right? Things still might be a little crazy in there. Just keep heading down the road, to the next village. Stay the night at the inn. You can do that, right?” 

The tailor looked doubtfully at his bundle of things, half-spilled on the ground. 

“Just leave it,” said Yuma. “I’ll make sure your master gets them back.” 

The tailor nodded and stumbled to his feet. He took a few unsteady steps up the road before turning back. 

“Wait, who are you? _What_ are you?” 

Yuma felt mildly annoyed. Sure, this transformation must have made him look a little outlandish, but he hadn’t thought it had changed him to the point of being unrecognizable. 

“I’m...” he began, and could get no further. His mouth had stopped working. Then he heard his own voice say, without any prompting from him, “Zexal.” 

“Zexal,” the tailor repeated. He goggled at Yuma a moment longer before shaking himself out of his daze and beginning his trek down the road. 

“Well, at least we got that right,” said Yuma. “So... now that that’s over, how do we, you know, change back?” 

_Considering that you were the one who caused this, I should think you would know best how to undo it,_ Astral said. He sounded distracted, as if something more important was occupying his thoughts. Yuma couldn’t imagine what that could be. Even if this transformation had been useful, he still didn’t think he wanted to be sharing a body with Astral forever. 

Still, he might have the right idea. If trying to borrow some of Astral’s magic had put him in this fix, maybe the opposite would get him out again. He closed his eyes and did his best to clear his mind, seeking the places inside himself where an alien power had come to rest, and he gathered it all together and gave it a _shove_ , and...” 

He was rewarded with a yelp, and an indignant voice saying, “Not so hard! That hurt.” 

“Sorry!” said Yuma. “I’ve never done that before.” 

“Well, don’t do it again,” said Astral, who was, reassuringly, outside Yuma’s body once more. Yuma looked down to make certain, and was relieved to see that the strange armor had gone with him. 

“At least it worked, right?” said Yuma. “What did we just do, anyway? And what the heck’s a Zexal?” 

“I am not quite certain,” said Astral. “That is to say, I am not even entirely certain that what we just witnessed _was_ Zexal, but I am unable to think of anything else it could have been.” 

“But what _is_ it?” Yuma persisted. 

“A reaction,” said Astral vaguely. “Oh dear, how do I explain it to someone of your limited intelligence... Do you know what happens when you mix vinegar with baking soda?” 

Yuma nodded, a bit bemused. “It bubbles up. I tried it once in the kitchen and it got all over the counter. My grandma threw a fit.” 

“Yes, well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” said Astral. “That was a chemical reaction. Vinegar is acidic, baking soda is the opposite of acidic, so when they mix together, it causes a reaction. Chaos and Order magic are a bit that way. When you blend them together in a certain way, it causes a reaction that enables magic much stronger than either of the original two magics could perform separately. Theoretically, at least.” 

“Theoretically?” Yuma repeated. 

“My people have never confirmed it. Most of the time, the spells only cancel each other out, or simply caused uncontrolled random results. We have never been able to figure out the outside factors that would lead to Chaos and Order working together synergistically rather than opposing each other. When they do, though, we refer to the resulting power as Zexal.” 

“I think I get it,” said Yuma. He thought for a moment. “Wait a minute - you mean when I borrowed your power, I might have exploded or something?” 

Astral looked unflustered. “It was an outside possibility, yes.” 

“Why didn’t you _warn_ me, then?” 

“You never asked.” 

“Great,” Yuma muttered. “Well, at least we know it works. Do you think it would work if we tried it again?” 

“I could not say for sure,” said Astral, “but logic suggests that if we do the same thing again it will have the same result.” 

Yuma brightened immediately. “Well, let’s go, then! We’ve gotta help the others!” 

“I am not so certain that...” Astral began, but Yuma had already begun to run. 

* * *

“Are you done yet?” 

Kaito slanted a look at Gauche, who stood a few feet away, fidgeting with the handle of his axe. 

“I’d get done faster if you would stop asking me so often,” he replied. “Why don’t you go do something useful? Patrol or something.” 

“Droite told me to stay put.” 

Kaito made a face. Technically, _he_ was supposed to be in charge here, but something in Gauche’s tone told him that between Droite and Kaito, Gauche was taking his orders from Droite first. He supposed that made sense. Those two could find another employer anywhere they chose, but finding another partner like Droite would take some doing. 

“Well, stay put _quietly_ ,” he said. 

For a moment, Gauche was quiet. It couldn’t last. 

“What are you doing over there, anyway?” he asked. 

Kaito sighed and resisted the urge to push his bodyguard off a roof. That was where they were now: perched on top of the town hall, partially hidden by an ornamental cupola with a weather vane on top. It was shaped like a dragon, its wings unfurled to catch the breeze, and under other circumstances, he might have taken some time to admire the craftsmanship. Instead, the weather vane and the cupola it sat on mattered only as a source of shadow where Kaito could crouch out of sight. The roof of the city hall was the highest point in the village, giving Kaito the best view possible of what was going on with the least chance of being seen by anyone else. It also decreased his odds of having anything thrown at him. The number of thumps, crashes, and splats he could hear below him were enough to tell him that this was a wise precaution. 

“I’m trying,” he said, through gritted teeth, “to fix this.” 

He scowled down at the array of charms, amulets, diagrams, and miscellaneous bits of magical debris, feeling like he was trying to work a jigsaw puzzle with most of the pieces missing. His father had done a good job of providing him with pre-made spells that could handle most of the difficulties he was likely to run into on a long trip away from home, everything from spells to get their wagon out of ruts to spells to keep people from picking his pockets. Most of them, though, were only meant to affect a small area at once. He didn’t have anything that could affect an entire town. 

_Think. There has to be a way I can use these to fix this situation..._

A flicker of movement attracted his attention. Droite had returned. 

“Are you making any progress?” she asked. 

“Not enough,” he replied. “What’s the situation?” 

“Getting worse by the minute,” she said. Her expression turned hesitant. “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t know if this is something we should be trying to fix by ourselves. Perhaps we should fall back and send for reinforcements.” 

“No,” said Kaito flatly. “I can’t get Haruto to safety fast enough, and there’s no backup that can get to us faster than a few days. We either need to deal with this now or it won’t be dealt with at all.” 

Droite looked like she wanted to argue, then looked away. “I understand. What are your orders?” 

“Just keep an eye on things,” he said. “I’ll figure something out. Go on. Take Gauche with you. See if you can patrol the perimeter of the town and make sure no one sneaks off.” 

“That’s a tall order,” said Gauche dubiously. 

Kaito glared at him. “It isn’t as though I’m giving myself the easy job. Just go!” 

Something in his expression must have showed them he meant business. Either that, or he just looked scarier than the rampaging mobs below them. They left hurriedly, bounding off the roof and out of sight. Kaito turned his attention back to his magical trinkets and tried to think. 

_What if I altered the cleaning spell, changed it to clean out the other spell remnants?_ He frowned, trying to consider all the angles. Altering spells was tricky business, but it _could_ be done, and Kaito at least knew the principle of it. He might not be able to generate magic himself, but he could manipulate it once it was out in the world. It wasn’t a sure thing, and he didn’t always know exactly what was going to happen once he’d done it. It was something he was only supposed to try as a last resort, but if this wasn’t a last resort situation, what was? 

_And if I get this wrong, it really might be the last thing I ever try._

He pushed that thought out of his mind and concentrated on the task at hand. The cleaning spell, something to rechannel the energy, something to widen the focus... 

About fifteen minutes of frantic tinkering produced something that looked almost like a functioning spell. Kaito checked it over carefully, until he was satisfied that it would do what it was supposed to do. Or possibly kill everyone within its radius. At least he could be sure that it would do _something_. He wished he had an easy way to get back in touch with Gauche and Droite, so he could let them know what was going to happen. Ah, well. They were grownups. They could look after themselves. It was just a good thing that Haruto was far enough out of town that any blasts wouldn’t be able to reach him. 

“I’m probably going to regret this,” Kaito muttered. He took out a knife, cut an X into the palm of his hand, and slammed the resulting bloody mark down in the center of the diagram he’d drawn. The lines of the diagram flared, and Kaito gritted his teeth as he felt the strength being literally drained from him, seeping out with the blood that was now soaking into the paper. The feeling was enough to make his stomach churn, but he could see that it was doing something. Down below him, the townspeople had stopped their rioting. Many of them were clutching at their chests, or had fallen to their knees. 

_Come on! Just a little more!_ Kaito urged. He could feel his heart pounding, too hard and too fast, and his ears buzzed. Spots danced before his eyes. Lacking any real magic to drain from him, the spell was draining his life force instead. No amount of willpower could keep the spell going once his strength gave out, but if he could just hold on a little longer... 

No good. With a gasp, he slumped forward onto the roof tiles, breaking the spell. He lay there for a few seconds, his head spinning, chest burning as he tried to pull enough air into his lungs. His muscles trembled with sudden overwhelming fatigue. He hoped that what he’d just done had helped, because with the way his ears were ringing, he couldn’t even be sure if the rioting had started up again. 

Then he realized that he had a more immediate problem - namely, that he should not have been trying to work intensive magical spells while perched on a slanting roof. Furthermore, he should have remembered that unlike most buildings in town, this building wasn’t thatched or even shingled with wood, but covered in smooth baked clay tiles, and while he could keep his footing on them well enough when he had the strength to pay attention... 

Kaito shook himself, trying to pull his mind away from the unconsciousness that was trying to sneak up on him, and scrabbled for a hold on the smooth tiles. He couldn’t get his hands to cooperate with him. Inexorably, he found himself sliding towards the edge of the roof, three stories off the ground. He picked up speed, began to roll, and managed to grasp the edge of a gutter just before he fell off entirely. He swung and thumped more or less face-first against the side of the mayor’s office, hard enough that it nearly made him lose his tenuous grip. His feet pedaled on air as he tried to find something to brace himself on - a window frame, a ledge, a rough stone. Nothing availed itself. He could feel his sweaty fingers starting to slip already. The cut on his palm throbbed, and he could feel fresh blood trickling between his fingers. 

_It’s a good thing Gauche isn’t here to see me. He’d probably laugh,_ Kaito thought irrelevantly. _I’ll probably break both my legs. It will be a miracle if I don’t break my back. I wonder if Yuma is a good enough to fix that?_

His hands ached where the edge of the gutter cut into them, and a small distracted part of him wondered whether he ought not to just let go and spare himself the pain. He was going to fall either way, so why was he making it worse for himself? And yet, he couldn’t make himself just give up. His plan should have _worked_ , damn it! 

Gritting his teeth, he tried to force his muscles to pull himself back to safety. He managed a scant inch of progress before the gutter cracked under his weight and sent him plummeting. 

_Oh, well,_ he though, feeling oddly calm. _It was worth a try._

He hit something solid, and the thought flashed through his mind that this was it, he’d crashed, and it was going to start hurting any time now. Then he realized that he was still moving, but now he was going sideways as well as downwards. He hadn’t hit the ground. Someone was carrying him. 

They hit the ground together, and then bounced back up again, springing straight up into the air to land on the roof of a nearby house. Kaito felt his rescuer set him down carefully next to the chimney. 

“Sorry about that,” said a voice. It sounded vaguely familiar, but there were odd overtones to it that kept Kaito from identifying it in his exhaustion and fear-addled state. “I got here as soon as I could.” 

Kaito looked up. He blinked. Whatever he’d been expecting, it was not this. The person who had rescued him was dressed all in some sort of form-fitting armor, red and white and made of some material he couldn’t begin to identify. His hair was the color of flame and stood up wildly in a way that seemed incompatible with gravity. Kaito had never seen him before, but something about him seemed so familiar... 

Then there was a warping in the air, like heat rising, and a faint scent of ozone and hot metal. Then there wasn’t an armored figure there, but Yuma and Astral. Kaito stared a moment, then narrowed his eyes. 

“All right,” he said. “Explain.” 

Yuma grinned. “Astral and I learned a new trick.” 

Astral looked mildly offended. “It is not a trick. There is no deception involved at all.” 

“Not that kind of trick!” said Yuma, rolling his eyes. 

“I don’t care what you call it,” said Kaito. “I want to know what you _did_.” 

“I borrowed some of his power,” said Yuma. “I thought if I had enough magic to work with, I could use it to pry those shards out of people, but it turns out when I try to use Astral’s power, we end up combining. It feels really weird.” 

Kaito brushed the nonessentials away in favor of the most important part. “You said you tried to use magic to remove the spell shards. Did it work?” 

“Well, yeah,” said Yuma, as if that part should have been obvious. 

“Then why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Kaito snapped. He hauled himself to his feet, re-energized by the prospect of a way out. “Can you do it again?” 

“Probably,” said Yuma. He looked down at the crowd, which was making confused noises. Kaito had the distinct impression that they had expected him to hit the ground in a messy heap, and weren’t certain they weren’t disappointed that they hadn’t. Given the situation, it probably wouldn’t be long before they started expressing their displeasure in a way that Kaito probably wouldn’t like, particularly as the roof he and Yuma had landed on was low enough to be within range of a thrown rock. 

“If we did it once, it stands to reason that we could do it again in similar circumstances,” Astral opined. “The question is whether we could do it to so many at once. I somehow doubt they will all simply line up and allow themselves to be disenchanted.” 

“I don’t see why not,” said Yuma. “I would, if it were me. I mean, they’re all angry about _nothing_ , and we could make them stop feeling that way if they let us. I wouldn’t want to be that angry, would you?” 

“I could not accurately say,” said Astral. “I have never been angry.” 

Kaito and Yuma both stared at him, but it was Yuma who said what they were both thinking: “You’re _weird_.” 

“I am not. I make perfect sense. I am absolutely logical,” Astral replied. “The rest of you are the ones who are strange.” 

“Never mind,” said Kaito irritably. “The important thing is, we have a way of fixing this problem - a way know for certain works.” He should have been pleased. The problem was on its way to being solved. It was just that he had expected to be the one responsible for solving it, and he’d given it his all only to have his efforts come to nothing and nearly get him killed. Now, to add insult to near-injury, he was being told that he had to stand back and let this idiot solve the problem for him. It wasn’t fair. 

He was distracted by the arrival of Gauche and Droite. They had scampered up the side of the building with impressive agility, and were now rushing over the rooftop to their employer’s side. 

“Are you all right?” Droite asked, sounding somewhere between outraged and terrified. “What happened? How did you manage to fall off the roof?” 

“I made a slight miscalculation,” Kaito muttered. 

“You shouldn’t have sent us away,” she replied. She sounded affronted. 

“It’s a good thing we didn’t go far,” said Gauche. 

“You didn’t get here soon enough,” said Kaito. “I had to be saved by Yuma. Some bodyguards you are. What’s the word on the crowd control?” 

“Not good,” Gauche admitted. “We tried, but there’s just the two of us and a hell of a lot of them.” He rubbed at one of his shoulders, which Kaito realized now had a bleeding gash across it. “They started getting agitated as soon as we got close to them, and we had to back down.” 

“What he’s not saying is that one of them tried to grab me,” said Droite, voice clipped, “and his friends weren’t happy about what we did to him.” 

“Geez,” said Yuma. “Here, bend down. I’ll fix it.” 

Gauche obediently crouched next to Yuma and let him patch up the wound. Kaito didn’t miss the little sigh of relief as the wound closed up, and guessed that it must have been deeper than Gauche was letting on. 

“That’s a whole lot better. Thanks, kid,” said Gauche, testing his newly healed arm. 

“No problem!” Yuma assured him. 

Kaito watched the exchange with impatience. “Can we please stick to the point? We need to figure out some way to keep this crowd under wraps long enough for these two to remove the spell from them.” 

“That’s a tall order,” said Gauche. “I mean, there’s just, what, the four of us here? The invisible guy doesn’t count. That’s not really enough people to keep a whole town under control.” 

Yuma looked mildly puzzled. “But we have more than four people. I’m getting at least eleven - twelve, if you count Astral.” 

“Eleven?” Gauche repeated. He fixed Yuma with a faintly irritated look. “Where are you getting eleven from? Not from around here.” 

“No,” said Kaito slowly. He thought he was beginning to get the hang of how Yuma thought. “Not from around here. But there are more places than just here.” 

Droite narrowed her eyes. “I’m not following.” 

“That’s all right,” said Kaito. “Come on. We’re withdrawing back to the temple.” 

“We’re giving up?” asked Gauche, looking indignant. 

Kaito shook his head. “Of course not. We’re going to make plans.”


	5. Faith Healing

They made plans. 

Once Kaito tallied up all the numbers, they worked as well as Yuma had said they would. There were four people in his group - five, counting Astral. Yuma had brought five friends from town. There were two people living in the temple. It was a good number to start with. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that Kaito thought they might be able to make this work. They had huddled together in the safety of the sanctuary, considering their assets and working out the best use of their individual skills, and now there was nothing left for them but to give it their best shot. 

“Now, stay here and don’t do anything stupid,” he said, for what must have been the fifteenth time. 

Yuma nodded and looked earnest, as he had the previous fourteen times. “Don’t worry. I understand what to do.” 

“Don’t worry about a thing,” said Master Rokujuro, patting Kaito on the arm. Normally, Kaito would have bridled at being touched by a stranger like that, but he didn’t think telling off the master at this point would do him very much good. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t wander off.” 

“Good. I’m counting on both of you,” said Kaito. 

Yamikawa looked uncertainly at his master. “Are you sure you can manage without me?” 

“I’ll be fine,” said the old man, smiling. “I still have a trick or two up my sleeve in case of emergencies like this one. You go on.” 

Yamikawa nodded and... wasn’t there. Kaito blinked. 

“Good trick,” he said grudgingly. He looked at Rokujuro. “Could I learn how to do that?” 

“Probably,” Rokujuuro said. “We’ll talk about it later.” 

Kaito nodded, satisfied. “All right, team. Let’s do this.” 

Everyone around him - Yuma, Astral, Rokujuuro, Gauche and Droite, all of Yuma’s friends - made sounds of agreement and approval. Then they all scattered, each in their own directions. Kaito hoped that they would be able to manage. Even with so many of them, they had a lot of ground to cover and they were going to have to do it fast. 

_I’m going to have to move fast too,_ he reminded himself. He gestured to Gauche and Droite. 

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get into position. You know where we’re meeting, right?” 

The two of them nodded. 

“See you at the edge of town,” said Gauche, and the two of them struck out. 

“Guess we’ll head for the pub,” said Tetsuo. He didn’t sound as enthused about his part of the job, but everyone agreed that making use of the bar’s resources was the best way to draw a large crowd in a hurry. 

“We’ve got it under control,” said Kotori confidently. Kaito decided to trust her. She had the air of someone who knew how to manage herself in an emergency, and he watched with mild approval as she hustled Tetsuo, Tokunosuke, and Takashi out of the temple. 

Cathy said, “I’ll scout around the temple and watch for anyone who gets here. As soon as they’re in range, I’ll lead them straight for the temple gates.” 

“Fine, but don’t take any risks,” said Kaito. “Don’t try to pick any fights. Just lure them in and let the guy with the sword deal with them.” 

Yamikawa nodded. “I will ensure that anyone who draws near goes into the temple courtyard and stays there. I believe even a mob of this magnitude will have difficulty in breaching our defenses. Anyone who goes into the courtyard will not get out.” 

“I’ll make sure of that,” said Rokujuro. “I’ll be putting all my power into making sure the temple doors and walls stay secure.” 

“Good,” said Kaito. “In that place, I think we’re all ready.” His gaze skated over to where Yuma was standing and looking nervous. “The rest will be up to you.” 

“Sheesh. No pressure or anything,” Yuma muttered. 

Kaito glared at him. “You volunteered for this. You’re the only one among us who can break this spell. You understand that, right? We aren’t just putting all that pressure on you because we feel like it.” 

“I get it, I get it,” said Yuma hastily. “Don’t worry, I’ll be ready.” 

“You’d better be,” said Kaito. 

He looked around at his assembled troops and had to stifle a sigh. This was not the kind of army a young prince dreamed of leading into battle. Unfortunately, it was all he had. 

“Well, team,” he said, “let’s move out.” 

* * *

A short while later, Tetsuo and Takashi were straining to push a keg of beer up the cellar stairs, while Kotori and Tokunosuke stood watch outside. 

“Couldn’t you have... found a plan that was... less heavy?” Takashi panted. 

“Shut up and keep pushing!” Tetsuo snapped. 

Together, they managed to heave the barrel over the top step and roll it towards the door. 

“I hate to do this,” Tetsuo muttered. “Could somebody get the door?” 

Takashi, looking relieved not to be pushing the heavy barrel anymore, scampered forwards to open the front door of the now-empty pub. Tetsuo carefully pushed the barrel across the floor, trying not to wince at the sound of things crunching in his path. People really had made a wreck of his family’s tavern, and the floor was littered with broken crockery and splintered furniture. It was going to take days to sort this out. 

_I guess one barrel of beer isn’t that big a loss, considering._

He shoved his burden out into the street. That was Kotori and Tokunosuke’s cue. They immediately scurried off, while Takashi hurried to replace them as their scout. Tetsuo had nothing to do but work off his nerves by slowly maneurvering his beer barrel into just the right spot. 

“I see them! They’re coming!” Takashi shouted excitedly, from his perch on top of the inn. He slid down the drainpipe, landed precariously on the edge of the rain barrel, and managed to jump safely to the ground without much more than a bit of awkward flailing. He raced to take his place next to Tetsuo and got ready to push again. 

Seconds later, Kotori came racing up the street from one direction, and Tokunosuke came pelting pell-mell from the other direction. 

“Remind me never to let you talk me into this ever again!” he complained as he came within shouting distance. 

The reason for his distress was abundantly clear. A mob of people was chasing after him, lured on by the promise of free beer, or possibly they were just chasing because he was running. A similar mob was coming from the other direction, courtesy of Kotori’s own advertisement. Fortunately for the two of them, as soon as the crush of men saw the barrel Tetsuo was leaning against, they lost interest in chasing Kotori and Tokunosuke, and instead focused on homing in on the barrel. 

“All right, push!” Tetsuo shouted. 

He gave a mighty shove, and Takashi threw his shoulder against the barrel. It started to roll. Tokunosuke and Kotori came skidding in next to them and added their weight to the effort. The barrel rolled faster and faster, making a noise like thunder as it rumbled over the rough road. 

“Don’t let it get away!” Tetsuo shouted. He wasn’t even sure anyone could hear him over the rumbling and the shouting. 

“Don’t let them catch us!” Tokunosuke snapped back. 

The crowd, unencumbered by an unwieldy barrel, was gaining on them. Fortunately, the barrel was starting to pick up momentum, and was nearly rolling along under its own power now. 

“Get ready to take the corner!” Tetsuo shouted. 

The temple was looming up ahead now. Tetsuo tried to gauge the distance - not an easy thing to do while pushing a barrel nearly as big as he was very quickly down a bumpy road. All he had to do was get it through the front gate. He’d always thought it a fairly large opening, but now he found himself thinking that it must have shrunk since the last time he’d seen it. There was no way he was going to get this barrel through it, as fast as it was moving. He still had to try. All he had to do was get it onto the grounds, and the rest would take care of itself. 

“On three!” he shouted to his friends. “One... two... THREE!” 

They pushed. The barrel rolled. Tetsuo felt it skid on the dusty ground, saw it turn and start to swerve towards the gates... 

It didn’t make it. It struck one of the gateposts, and the already fizzing contents burst out to spray in all directions. Tetsuo and his friends yelped as they found themselves abruptly drenched and skidding in the freshly made mud. Behind them, the mob also stopped, apparently taken aback by what they were seeing. Tetsuo turned around slowly, not sure he wanted to see what was coming next. 

“You broke it!” someone shouted. 

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” someone else demanded. 

“Let’s get ‘em!” a third person bellowed, and the crowd surged forward. 

“That didn’t work the way I thought it would,” Tetsuo protested, as he and his friends retreated into the temple. 

“Well, at least they’re here!” Kotori shouted back. 

“Too bad we’re not going to live to see what happens next,” said Tokunosuke. 

The crowd was indeed getting closer. In fact, Tetsuo had the distinct impression that it had grown larger since last time he checked. Theoretically, that was good, since the idea was to get as much of the town in one place as possible. On a practical level, however... 

_I sure hope Yuma comes through with this thing,_ he thought. 

Of course, Yuma was one of his best friends. Everyone liked Yuma. He was upbeat, positive, generous, outgoing, and always willing to believe the best of everyone and everything. Those were excellent traits, and generally made up for his near-total lack of practical abilities. 

_Oh, who am I kidding?_ Tetsuo thought. _We’re all gonna die._

* * *

Astral turned his head this way and that, following Yuma’s movements as he paced. It was starting to get on Yuma’s nerves. 

“Can’t you find something else to look at?” he demanded. 

“There is nothing else,” said Astral, with a nod to indicate the empty sanctuary they were standing in. “Besides, I’m curious. A large and important endeavor is about to begin, and you appear to be wasting your limited reserves of energy walking back and forth. Does this behavior serve some purpose?” 

“I’m bored,” said Yuma. “And a little nervous. I need to blow off some steam.” 

Astral blinked. “I don’t see any steam. Did it all blow away?” 

“No, no, that’s just an expression,” said Yuma hastily. “Like, you know, when the teakettle is overheating and there’s steam jetting out everywhere? That’s kinda how I feel now - like I’ve got all this energy I’ve gotta let loose somehow.” 

"That seems highly inefficient to me," said Astral, frowning slightly. "It would be far better to save your energy for the task ahead of us. As it is, you stand the risk of tiring yourself before we've even begun." 

"Well, yeah, but..." Yuma began, and then trailed off with a scowl. "Geez. Why do you have to bring up stuff like that?" 

"Why don't you think about it?" Astral replied, sounding far more reasonable than he had any right to. 

"I'm not big into thinking about stuff," said Yuma. "I'm what you'd call a man of action." 

"No," said Astral. "You are what I would call reckless, impulsive, and dangerously irresponsible." 

"Wow, thanks a lot." 

Astral tipped his head, eyeing Yuma with a thoughtful gaze. It made Yuma feel as though he had some inscription on his forehead that Astral was trying to puzzle out. 

"You know," he said at last, "given all that, there is something which I do not understand." 

Yuma looked up at him warily. "What's that?" 

"Why you are going to all this trouble?" Astral asked. "If you are an agent of Chaos, as you clearly are, why are you so determined to preserve this town? Why not simply leave things as they are and go somewhere else? You clearly _want_ to go somewhere else. Every fiber of your being clearly aches to be on the road, seeing new places. Why does it matter what happens here when you're clearly itching to be elsewhere?" 

Yuma was almost too impressed by the sheer wrongness of this to be offended. 

"Wow," he said. "You really don't understand at all, do you?" 

"Yes," said Astral, unoffended. "That is why I am asking for clarification." 

"I shouldn't even have to explain," said Yuma. "This is my _home_. My friends are here. My family is here. Sure, I want to leave to see the world someday, but even when I do, I want to know that everyone I left behind is safe. There's no point in leaving if I don't have someplace to go home to." 

Astral frowned, apparently turning this idea over in his mind. "I have no particular desire to go back to my world." 

"No?" 

"But I have no friends or family there. I take it that by your definition, it would not be my home." 

Yuma shook his head. "No. Your home is where the people you care about are. It's not exactly a place. It's more of a feeling." 

"I see." Astral rotated gently in the air as he contemplated this new concept. "To be entirely truthful, you and your friends may be the only people in the universe I am even remotely acquainted with. It follows, then, that if anywhere is my home, this is." 

Yuma grinned. "Works for me!" 

"Then it also follows," said Astral, still pursuing this strange new line of thought, "that it would behoove me to protect this village as well." 

"Definitely," Yuma agreed. 

"Then it sounds as though the two of you are in accord," said a voice. 

Yuma turned to see that his master had wandered into the sanctuary. Yuma bowed his head in a respectful gesture, and after a beat, Astral copied him. Rokujuro smiled and bowed back to them. 

There were not a lot of people in the world who commanded Yuma's absolute respect and obedience - well, more or less obedience. This was because Rokujuro had _earned_ that respect. He was the oldest person in the village - a year or so older even than his grandmother, difficult as that was for Yuma to imagine - and certainly one of the wisest. He had powers that were both deep and wide, and if he had chosen to, he could have become a powerful warlord, or a wealthy wizard in service to some great king. Instead, he had remained in this town and had devoted himself to teaching and healing. More importantly, when others in the village had called Yuma clumsy and impulsive, too much of a handful to teach, he had seen something worthwhile in Yuma and taken him as his student, an honor he extended to few others. You had to respect someone like that. 

"We are attempting to reach an understanding," said Astral. 

"That's good, that's good," said Rokujuro. He leaned forward, giving Astral an interested look. "You know, my old master used to tell me stories about your kind, but this is the first time I've actually set eyes on one of you. May I say, it is an honor." 

"I am intrigued at meeting you as well," said Astral. "I'm sure it will be a valuable learning experience." 

Rokujuro looked amused. "I'm sure it will be. Do you know why this temple is here?" 

"I'd assumed that temples were a regular feature of human villages," said Astral. 

"Well, that's so," said Rokujuro. "But this particular temple is at this particular spot because there is an old, old story about this place. The legend says that there is a gateway to the world of the Elves that will someday open and release a visitor." 

Yuma's eyes widened. "You knew this was going to happen?" 

"Not precisely," said Rokujuro. "The legend has been passed down from master to master for hundreds of years. It's worn thin in the telling, and some elements have been forgotten, while others have been exaggerated. What I did know was that the legend also made it very clear that a human magician _must_ be here to meet the envoy when it arrived. The reason, in fact, that this temple was built was because someone needed to ensure that a suitable mage would be here when the prophecy finally came true. Now I am very pleased to know that the temple's purpose has been fulfilled... though perhaps not in the way I had imagined." 

Astral looked interested. "Tell me, please - does your prophecy state why it is that a human should be here to meet me?" 

"Ahh, I hoped you would ask that," said Rokujuro. "The temple records state that when the two are united, they will unleash a power called 'Zexal'..." 

"Oh, yeah!" said Yuma. "We did do that!" 

"...and when this happens," said Rokujuro, "it will herald a time of approaching danger - not just to this village, but to the world at large." 

"Oh," said Yuma, face falling. 

Rokujuro smiled. "Have courage, my student. If you have been given this power, it is surely because you were meant to use it for the good of the world." 

"Yeah, you're right," said Yuma. "I'll definitely be ready for it." 

Astral nodded solemnly. "I failed in my mission once. Perhaps with the power of Zexal, I will be able to redeem myself." 

Yuma turned to smile at him, and Astral tried a tentative smile in return. Rokujuro beamed proudly at both of them. 

There came a distant rumble outside, something that sounded suspiciously like shouting voices. 

"Ahh," said Rokujuro. "It sounds as though your chance has arrived." 

* * *

Kaito stood just outside the edges of town, planning his next move. The air smelled of smoke, and even from where he stood, the occasional crash or distant scream was audible. 

“It’s not that big of a village,” Kaito told himself. “This can’t be _that_ hard.” 

Still, it was important to make sure every last fragment of the spell was gathered - they couldn’t afford to miss even one. Kaito had used his collection of charms, what remained of them after he had burned out a few in that stunt he’d pulled earlier, to build a set of makeshift dowsing rods. Assuming it was working the way it should, he ought to be able to use it to round up any stragglers. He handed them to Gauche and Droite. 

“You know what to do, right?” he said. 

Droite, the professional, nodded. Gauche rolled his eyes and said, “It ain’t exactly deep magic. Just find ‘em, get ‘em riled up, and lead ‘em to the temple. Piece of cake.” 

“Take this seriously,” said Droite, giving him a nudge. “People are counting on us.” 

“I didn’t sign up to protect them,” Gauche pointed out reasonably. “I’m only contracted to look after him and the kid.” 

“Yes, well,” said Kaito testily, “if we don’t get this mess sorted out, Haruto and I will be in danger, so technically this _is_ what you signed up to do.” 

“He’s got you there,” said Droite, smirking. “Go on. Weren’t you the one complaining that being on the road with nothing happening was boring? Go do something fun.” 

“All right, all right,” Gauche said. He stomped off, following his magical guide. Kaito wondered if part of his bodyguard’s irritation was that he felt ridiculous carrying around what amounted to a rock on a string. 

“Want me to follow him and make sure he stays out of trouble?” Droite asked. 

Kaito shook his head. “He’s gone to pick a fight with people. He knows how to do that. You just worry about mopping up anyone he misses.” 

“That’s a skill of mine,” said Droite wryly. She faded into the shadows. Kaito watched her go, feeling mildly impressed. He had known her for years now, and he still hadn’t worked out exactly how she did that. Perhaps she’d learned it the same way the temple ninja had. He was really going to have to study that trick. 

“Well, no time to worry about it now,” he told himself. 

He found a convenient water butt and used it to scramble up onto the roof of a nearby house. From there, it was easy enough to leap from roof to roof. He had done that sort of thing a lot in the city, where the buildings were closer together and had more solid roofs to jump onto. This place offered more of a challenge, and under other circumstances, he might have enjoyed it. 

_If I survive this,_ he thought, _I will have to come back another time to practice._

He pushed the thought of out his mind and set himself to patrolling the perimeter of the town. At one point, he stopped to beat out a fire on someone’s roof. Mostly though, he explored, checking for anyone who might be trying to hide or escape. At one point, he found Gauche shouting taunts to a group of women who seemed to be trying unsuccessfully to hit him with broomsticks and rolling pins, and occasionally hurling eggs and vegetables at him. As near as Kaito could tell, the man was having a wonderful time. In another part of town, he spotted Droite expertly luring on a group of men - calling out to them, fading into the shadows, reappearing somewhere further up the road. Kaito smiled a little. Clearly his comrades had everything well in hand. 

He continued following a spiral path, looping closer and closer to the temple. After a while, he decided that his meandering course was no longer necessary: judging by the sounds being made up ahead, anyone who hadn’t already noticed the commotion converging in the center of town was probably already dead. Kaito broke into a sprint and headed for the temple roof. 

What he found was what he had expected to see, but the raw violence of it took him aback nonetheless. Fistfights had broken out throughout the crowd. People were screaming and crying. Some of them were trying to climb over the stone fence that surrounded the temple courtyard - some trying to get in, others trying to get out. Someone had thrown a rock and smashed one of the beautiful stained-glass windows that fronted the building. The girl Cathy was racing along the walls and rooftops, hauling people into the courtyard as they came over the walls, or else shoving them back in when they tried to get out. She was able to put on a surprising rate of speed, but even she couldn’t be everywhere at once. A man with a knife took a swing at her, and she yelped as the tip grazed her leg. Kaito gritted his teeth at the sight. 

_This has gone far enough,_ he decided. 

He backed up, took aim, and made a running leap. He landed lightly on the edge of the perimeter wall and began to run along its length, occasionally treading on someone’s fingers or shoving them out of the way as he passed. When he reached the point where the wall met the building, he jumped up, grabbed a jutting window ledge, and began hauling himself upwards. Fortunately, the front of the temple was ornately carved, and he was able to find enough hand and footholds to drag himself up onto the roof. From there, it was a short sprint up to the bell tower. He scrambled over the railing of the cupola that contained the great bell and looked up at it. A sturdy rope hung down from somewhere above Kaito’s head. 

“Well, here goes nothing,” he said, and gave the rope a pull. 

A loud, clear peal rang out, higher and sweeter than Kaito had expected. It seemed to shimmer in the air, nearly visible, filling the landscape with echoes. Such was its piercing quality that even the commotion in the courtyard stilled. Kaito found he was holding his breath. 

Then a voice in the crowd roared, “Now!” and the world snapped into motion again. 

The first group that started to move were those who had been closest to Gauche when he’d let out that yell. Gauche had an extremely good bellow, and the height and build to back it up. When he wanted people to move, they moved. On the other side of the crowd, Droite began her own methods of crowd control. She wasn’t as loud or physically imposing as Gauche, but she had a glare that would cut steel and cause strong men to cringe and remember appointments elsewhere. When she ordered them to move now, they moved. A few others, seeing danger closing in on both sides, attempted to retreat back the way they had come, only to have their escape cut off by the sudden appearance of a tall man with a sword. 

“Everyone into the temple,” Yamikawa ordered. “Now, please. This is, after all, a peaceful place, and I would hate to do anything disruptive.” 

Gradually, the crowd began to flow out of the courtyard, through the main doors and into the temple sanctuary. Kaito kept watch from above, calling out when he saw someone trying to slip away, so that the guards could circle back and draw them in again. In a remarkably short space of time, the entire town was crammed inside the temple. Gauche, Droite, Cathy and Yamikawa converged on the doors and shoved them closed. Kaito scrambled back down to ground level. 

“Did we get everyone?” Gauche asked. 

“I think so,” said Kaito. “Good job, everyone.” 

“Seems kind of anticlimactic, just shoving everyone into a building,” Gauche grumbled, but Kaito could see his heart wasn’t in it. Clearly this outing had been the most fun he’d had in days. 

“We were not meant to be the heroes this time,” said Yamikawa philosophically, sheathing his sword. “Now it’s all up to Yuuma.” 

Kaito looked speculatively at the temple. “Is that likely to work?” 

Cathy followed his gaze. 

“Well,” he said, “I’m sure he’ll try his best.” 

Kaito tried not to let his feelings show on his face. 

_That’s it, then. We’re all going to die._

* * *

Yuma stood at the window of one of the temple’s upper rooms and looked down at the seething crowd. He tried not to let what he was feeling show on his face - it had been one thing to talk about saving everybody when he was safe and alone in the temple, and quite another to talk about saving everybody when _everybody_ was standing in front of him at once. Yuma had thought he knew everyone in town, and liked most of them, but he hadn’t realized just how many of them there actually. 

“Are you sure we can’t just ask them to go home and come back later?” he asked weakly. 

Astral gave him a flat look. “Your friends have already risked their well-being to bring these people to you. Are you willing to tell them they wasted that effort because you weren’t ready to do your part?” 

Yuma opened his mouth to argue. Then he shut it again. 

“When you’re right, you’re right,” he said at last. “Okay, pal, let’s do this thing.” 

Astral raised an eyebrow. “Pal? I am not familiar with this word.” 

“It means ‘friend’,” said Yuma. “If you’re helping to save my village, that makes you my friend.” 

“I do not believe I’ve ever had a friend before,” said Astral. He pronounced the word as though it were in a foreign language. “I am not sure I know how.” 

“You’ll pick it up as you go along,” said Yuma. 

The faintest of smiles touched Astral’s face. “If I can do that, I can do anything. Now, let us deal with the problem at hand.” 

The two of them turned away from the window to face each other. That made it a little easier, Yuma thought. Looking out at the restive crowd was intimidating, but Astral’s calm, alien face held no menace. 

_This guy is my friend,_ he told himself. _Maybe we haven’t known each other long yet, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s going to help me save everything that matters to me. If Master Rokujuro was right, then he’s going to help with a lot of other stuff, too. We need to trust each other._

And he _did_ trust Astral, he realized. Maybe not with everything, not yet, but with this? Yes. Astral might be an annoying stick-in-the-mud, but nothing Yuma had learned of him suggested that Astral was in any way dishonest. If anything, he was perhaps a little too literal. Yuma didn’t think Astral would know how to tell an untruth, or that it would ever occur to him to do so. If he said he was going to help Yuma do this thing, then Yuma had no doubt that he intended to do it, and would tackle it fearlessly and single-mindedly, because that was the sort of person Astral was. Yuma tried to hold that thought in his mind: Astral, his new friend, who was honest and steadfast, patient and thoughtful, Astral who had waited for hundreds of years just to have his chance to make up for his past failures. Yuma wondered fleetingly if Astral had been able to bend his rigid mind enough to find something good to think about Yuma. He realized that he hoped so. He felt like he was going to like Astral, and he wanted Astral to like him too. 

“Ready?” said Yuma. 

Astral nodded. “Let us make the attempt.” 

The two of them raised their hands and pressed their palms together, and Yuma felt the world change. It was easier this time, the transition between being two distinct souls and a single entity. In fact, it felt... right, somehow, as if Yuma had been going about all his life with a piece missing, and now he was finally whole again. There was still a small part of himself that still thought like Yuma, but the rest of him was entirely Zexal. It would be easy to let himself slip entirely into this new form, to be sure and strong forever... but if he did that, where would he be? Something would survive, but it wouldn’t be Yuma anymore. Reluctantly, he forced himself to concentrate - not something he was used to doing. 

_Well done,_ said Astral’s voice in his mind. _You learn fast._

Not, “Faster than I expected,” Yuma noted. Apparently Astral didn’t feel like insulting him at the moment. Maybe he wasn’t so bad, after all. 

_I heard that._

Or maybe not. 

_Do you know what to do now?_ Yuma asked him. 

_Of course. I was paying attention,_ Astral replied. 

_Well, let’s give it a try, then._

They had proven that they could heal one person just by laying hands on them - that had worked once already. The problem here was that they needed to heal everyone, preferably all at once, before any of them could escape. Simply trying to line them all up and marching them past would take forever, not to mention giving them far too many opportunities to escape or attack. 

Fortunately, Master Rokujuro had offered a better way. This temple they stood in was a vast source of healing energy. Healers and priests had been doing their work there since time immemorial, and the aura of their powers was imprinted into the very stones. The entire temple itself had been slowly refined over the years to become a perfect vessel for that power, to be tapped into when needed. Yuma had always seen it as a gentle glow, as if even the darkest corners of the temple were faintly illuminated by moonlight. Now it gleamed like midday in summer. 

_Wow,_ said Yuma, taking it all in. _I’ve never seen it so clear before._

_You are seeing it as I see it,_ said Astral. _Now, you are more familiar with this space than I am. Can you show me how the power is gathered and stored?_

Wordlessly, he directed Astral’s attention to the far side of the room, where a small altar stood. This wasn’t the main sanctuary, but it had been built along the same lines on a smaller scale, to give the priests and various lesser functionaries a place where they could hold their own private ceremonies. Now Yuma showed Astral how the paths on the floor, the structure of the ceiling, and the layout of the halls beyond all worked together to draw power to the center of the temple where all the altars rested. 

_I understand. Do you know how to draw the power out again?_

_Not for something this big. I’d blow myself up, trying to channel that much power at once._

_Then I will show you a form for doing it safely. Watch how I do this._

He reached out and began gathering a fragment of energy. It looked to Yuma as though he took a small glowing stick and balanced it on end. Then he took a second and balanced it against the first. A third created a tiny pyramid. Hands moving quickly, he began building more tiny triangles, connecting them to each other to form solid structures. 

_Triangles are very stable,_ he explained. _Circles are too, in their way, but for a task like this, where we need to gather and move a great deal of power quickly, triangles are a more suitable form._

Yuma nodded. He had been told things like that in some of his magic lessons, but he’d never really paid attention. He’d always been strong enough that he could do more or less whatever he wanted just by brute force. Watching Astral creating patterns, feeling the shape of it reflected in Yuma’s own mind, made it all make more sense. He added his power to Astral’s, and triangles began piling up like snow. He and Astral weren’t even touching them now, just creating the forms in their minds, but that was all it took with magic. Soon they had an immense pillar of them, piled floor to ceiling, pressed so tightly together that all that was visible was a cylinder of dazzling white light. Even with Yuma and Astral’s powers combined, it was getting hard to hold it together. 

_All right,_ said Astral at last. _We are going to release this slowly, starting from the top. Clear?_

_Got it,_ Yuma agreed. 

They began to unfold their creation. To Yuma, it looked as though some strange glowing tree was unfurling its canopy above his head, spreading out an infinity of white leaves. Up and out they went, becoming a delicate dome built of a million tiny triangles. The shape hung in the air for a moment, and then, with an air of slow inevitability, it began to collapse. Yuma felt the power cascading all around him; it was like being in a warm, heavy downpour of rain. It sank through the floor as though it wasn’t even there and poured down into the sanctuary below them, onto the gathered villagers. Yuma laughed. 

_It tickles!_

_It really does. Amazing._ Astral was laughing too. Yuma wondered briefly if he had ever been tickled before. 

_Did it work?_ Yuma asked. 

_I think so,_ said Astral. _Let’s find out._

Yuma felt the twisting sensation that preceded the two of them separating. He toppled backwards onto the floor, flopping onto his back like a doll. He hadn’t realized how much energy he and Astral had spent in building their magic tree, but now that the power of Zexal was no longer sustaining him, he felt as limp as an old rag. Even Astral’s glow looked somewhat dimmed. 

“Good grief,” Yuma muttered. “Why didn’t someone tell me it was gonna be like that?” 

“I have never done this before,” said Astral. He didn’t sound sarcastic - he was merely stating an explanatory fact. 

Yuma groaned and hauled himself onto his hands and knees. He decided that was far enough, and scrambled over to the window to haul himself up by the sill. Astral drifted over to peer out the window as well. Outside, people were beginning to trickle back out into the courtyard. They were still milling around, but they now had a quieter air about them; they didn’t seem angry, but merely confused, as if they didn’t remember how they had gotten there. Even as Yuma watched, the tall red-haired man who seemed to work for Kaito pushed open the courtyard gates, allowing people to return to their homes. 

Yuma grinned. “Looks like it worked.” 

“So it would seem,” Astral agreed. He looked at Yuma thoughtfully. “Perhaps our association will be beneficial after all.” 

Yuma grinned. “Nice to year you admitting it.” 

“Yes,” said Astral. “It would seem I must give you some magic lessons. Clearly you are far too powerful to continue as you are without proper guidance.” 

“Hey, wait a minute...” said Yuma. 

“I mean no slight against your teacher,” said Astral, “but I suspect he does not fully grasp the extent of your potential abilities, nor does he have my natural advantages. If we are going to work effectively together, you are going to need to learn my methods. I shouldn’t have to teach you basic skills every time we attempt a working. In my opinion, we should begin your education with... Yuma? Yuma, are you listening?” 

But Yuma was not listening. It had been a busy day, and he had just made a major effort. Now everything was safe and sound again, and he felt he had some reward due to him. Curled up on the cold stone floor, Yuma was still comfortably asleep. 

* * *

“I am so glad this day is over,” Kaito muttered, as he dropped into a chair. 

Still, things could be a lot worse, he decided. The spell seemed to be completely broken now. He and his companions had checked the village throughly and found no traces of anything that shouldn’t be there, not even some long-forgotten hex to make someone’s chickens stop laying. Now he was safe at home again. There was a fire burning in his new fireplace, the housekeeping automaton was fixing what smelled like an excellent dinner, and Haruto was sitting on the rug playing with a favorite toy. Kaito smiled a little as he watched his brother. Already he seemed to be doing better, so far away from the smoke and crowds of the city. 

_As long as living here helps him stay well, I’d live here forever._

He settled more deeply into his chair. After so many days on the road, being able to sit in a chair, a real easy chair with proper cushions, was wonderful. His eyes began to slide closed. Perhaps, he thought muzzily, there was just enough time for a little nap before dinner... 

There came a knock on the door. 

Kaito groaned. For a moment, he thought about asking someone else to get the door, and then discarded it. He was the master of the house now, and anyone coming to knock on the door was probably doing it because they wanted to talk him. 

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” he said to whoever might be listening. Haruto looked up from his play for a moment, seemed to decide that his brother had things well in hand, and went back to what he was doing. 

Kaito jerked open the door, prepared to be rude to whoever was bothering him this time of night. It wasn’t that he wanted to make enemies here in his new home, but he felt that most people should have the basic manners to understand that he might be tired after his long journey, or at least too busy with setting up his household to want to entertain guests. He stopped short when he found himself staring at a basket. It was quite a large basket, with several cloths tucked over it to keep everything inside. Such was the immensity of it that it took him a second or two to realize it was being propelled by Yuma. 

“Er, hi,” said Yuma. “Can I come in? This thing is pretty heavy.” 

“Ah...” Kaito scrambled to pull his thoughts together. On the one hand, he didn’t want company. On the other, this wasn’t just anyone, this was Yuma, and he probably deserved at least some slight consideration. Besides, it looked like he had brought presents. “Of course. Please come inside.” 

Yuma staggered into the room and let his burden fall into the nearest unoccupied chair with a thump. Then he stood back, shaking out his tired arms while he took in his surroundings. 

“Hey, this is a really nice place you have here,” he said. “I didn’t think this house would look this good, after being empty for so long.” 

“We’ve put in a bit of work on it to bring it up to scratch,” said Kaito. 

“You did a good job,” said Yuma. He began pulling cloths from the top of the basket. “Anyway, I brought some stuff from all my friends. We took up a collection, and they volunteered me to carry it all.” 

Haruto set his toy aside and came up to watch the unpacking. “Presents?” 

“That’s right,” said Yuma. “See, my grandma sent you this toy bear she made, and my sister Akari sent you a book.” 

Haruto expressed delight with his new things and carried them back to his place by the fireside to examine them properly. Kaito let himself relax a little. Even he liked presents. 

Yuma was continuing: “...and Tetsuo’s dad sent a bottle of his best applejack, and some peach brandy. Cathy sent some sausages and a fur hat, and here’s some candles from Tokunosuke, and some jam from Todoroki, and Master Rokujuuro sent some of his medicines because he says you never know, right? Even though you look pretty healthy to me,” he concluded. He turned to scrutinize Haruto. “Hmm. Come to think of it, he doesn’t look so good. Did you know your kid brother is sick?” 

“Yes,” said Kaito. “I did.” He realized he had just snapped at Yuma and forced himself to rein in his temper. “He... hasn’t been well for a long time. We moved here because we thought the quiet and the fresh air would do him good. He’s a lot better than he was already.” 

Yuma walked away from his pile of gifts and crouched down on the floor to get a better look at Haruto. 

“He’s still not as good as he could be, though,” he concluded. “Hey, there, little guy. Do you mind if I hold your hands for a second? I want to see if I can make you feel better. How about it, huh?” 

Haruto looked at him with wide, worried eyes. “You can do that?” 

“Sure,” said Yuma. “I’m a healer. It’s what I’m best at.” 

“Okay, then,” said Haruto, holding out his hands. Yuma took them gently and closed his eyes in concentration. 

“I’ll be impressed if this works,” said Kaito. “He’s been treated by the best healers in the...” 

And then he trailed off, because he could already see the glow of energy passing from Yuma’s hands into Haruto’s. Even as Kaito watched, Haruto’s breathing became easier, and a flush of healthy color came into his cheeks. 

“You’re right, that feels a lot better!” said Haruto. 

Yuma released his hold and grinned. “See, what did I tell you?” 

Kaito’s jaw was hanging open. 

“How did you...” he stammered. “I mean, nobody’s _ever_...” 

“Guess I just have the knack for it!” said Yuma, grinning. “He’s going to need more treatments for a permanent cure, though. Bring him back to the temple in about three days, or sooner if he starts looking bad again. I’ll give him another dose and ask Master Rokujuuro to make up some special medicines for him. We’ll have him better than new before you know it.” 

Kaito felt his throat go tight. Haruto, well... not just temporarily relieved but completely _well_ , able to run and play and climb like any other child, able to grow up healthy and strong enough to become a true prince someday... 

“Thank you,” he said gruffly. “If there’s any way I can repay you... just ask for anything at all, and I’ll get it for you somehow.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” said Yuma. “We’re friends now, right? That’s what friends are for.” 

Friends? Well, a crown prince couldn’t afford to have many friends. Any alliance was dangerous when there was a crown involved. Somehow, though, Kaito had a sense that this was a friend worth having. 

_Anything for Haruto,_ he told himself, but he was smiling at Yuma even as he thought it. 

This might not be the peaceful retreat he had hoped for, but all the same, he was glad he had come to this village.


End file.
